Life changes everything
by cheshire-bird
Summary: After Arya rejected Eragon in Eldest he is heartbroken, but someone tries to comfort him. Unfortunately that causes even more trouble for the young Rider.
1. Chapter 1

**Pairing:** Islanzadi / Eragon, don't like don't read.

**Authors Note:** I don't own the Inheritance Cycle, Christopher Paolini does. And I think due to first use, the pairing belongs to _Elf Knight_, hope you don't mind me using it.

I have to apologize for any mistakes I made by retelling the story of Eragons time in Ellesmera. I read _Eldest_ five years ago, so I don't remember everything anymore.

Furthermore I apologize for the long introduction and bad poetry.

Oh, and I'm not a native speaker, so forgive me any mistakes in grammar and spelling I did.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

The first time Eragon met Islanzadi, he thought her to be the most royal being he had ever seen. She was beautiful and had a special air of glory around her. For a moment he was completely caught by it. But that soon changed when she spoke to him for the first time, telling him how he wasn't able to live up to all the hope the Varden, elves and dwarfs put into him, how he was just a crippled shadow of a Rider. And even though he knew that then she had been right, all he could see when he looked at her was a woman, whose coldheartedness was equal to her beauty. And from then on he tried to spent as little time as possible with her, only meeting her if he couldn't avoid it.

He wasn't too surprised to learn about Aryas cold childhood in the forest of her mother. Picturing the queen to be a caring mother seemed to be impossible. But still the fact that Arya had suffered emotional pain because of her coldhearted mother, made him dislike Islanzadi even more. It was like the queen was made of ice and being around her made his soul feel cold.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Islanzadis first reaction to meeting Eragon wasn't so different to his, but with one significant difference: it was the other way around. Her first glance at the young Rider told her that he was a human, meaning he was weaker, slower and didn't know as much as most of the elves who had tried to get chosen by Saphira. Furthermore he was young, too young to live up to all the hopes people put into the new rider. And it didn't help either that she knew about the condition of his health. Being injured and limited by it's aftermath made him an even less appealing choice for a Rider. She hadn't been able to help herself, she was disappointed by him. But being an elf, being the queen of the elves, she was too controlled to show it.

But during the celebration that had followed the official meeting she had watched him. He wasn't as noble as an elf and he had seemed insecure, being around so many elves, but on the other hand he seemed to share a very deep bond with Saphira and he tried to behave as gentle as possible. It made her rethink her first opinion of him. Maybe he wasn't an all that bad choice after all. If he hadn't been injured by Durza he even might have become a sufficient Rider.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Eragons time in Ellesmera was a very special one, it was a constant change of ups and downs for the boy. He met Oromis and Gleadr, which filled him with hope and cured a bit of the loneliness he had felt after Brom had passed away, but at the same time his love for Arya caused him more pain than ever. Also he was tormented by the scar on his back. The unbearable pain that attacked him in all the wrong moments did not only hurt his physical health but also his mental one. Slowly his hopes of ever having the slightest chance of killing Galbatorix were trashed, with each wave of pain a bit more. It didn't help that he could see it in the elves faces that they were loosing hope too. Oromis tried his best, but Eragon knew that his training was of little use, if the curse wouldn't be broken. The only thing that could distract him from those thoughts was the time he could spent with Arya and the incredible things he learned from Oromis.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Agaeti Blödhren changed everything. At least it did for Eragon. The spirit of dragons broke the curse that had tormented him for months. The pure joy and happiness that had possessed him that evening had washed all his worries and bad feelings away, leaving him in a state of dreamlike ecstasy. It didn't last long, though.

When Eragon went to meet Arya, he confessed his love for her to the princess, but she rejected him, leaving Eragon heartbroken. For the Rider it was one of the worst feelings ever, just comparable to loosing Garrow and Brom. For days he didn't know what to do. He felt empty, like there was a big hole inside of him, which kept expanding when ever he thought about Arya. It hurt, more than he would have thought. But he continued his training with Oromis nevertheless. First there was duty, everything else had to stand back in it's presence.

When he returned to his tree-house in the evening, though Eragon would curl up on his bed and cry himself to sleep, or he would stand at the big opening in the wall and watch the sun set, over the great forest of Du Weldenvarden. The pain in his heart stayed the same though. Eragon honestly didn't know how his life should go on, if the pain didn't fade.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Late one evening Eragon was woken by the sound of flapping wings. He had fallen asleep, sitting right next to Saphira, leaning on her front paw. He had been rethinking his actions during the Blood-Oath Celebration and felt greatly embarrassed by it. What had possessed him to be so forthright? The thought that he might have ruined their friendship by it, tormented him.

The sound made him look up and he saw Blagden sitting on his bedpost. Eragon blinked surprised. „Blagden Elda.", he greeted the bird. Blagden looked at him with unmoving black eyes, but remained silent. After several minutes had passed, Eragon was getting annoyed.

„What are you doing here, Blagden Elda?", he asked. The bird kept starring at him like he was just an ordinary raven eying some interesting bunch of food.

Finally the bird cried: „Wyrda!", before spreading his wings and flying out through the hole in the wall, that was supposed to be Saphiras entrance. Eragon looked after him and wondered what had just happened.

_What was that?_, he asked Saphira.

_I don't know._, she answered. _But Blagden has always been one to speak in riddles, why should he not behave in them as well?_

_Yes, but normally he says something, even if it's just a riddle. This was purely strange, even for Blagden._

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The next morning Islanzadi was walking through the Tialdari Hall admiring the beauty that it held. After all the years she had lived in it, the beauty of the flowers and other plants still managed to lift her spirit. Still she couldn't leave all of the thoughts that kept bothering her behind. Especially the change that had happened to Eragon was constantly worrying her. Now that the curse was broken and the spirit of dragons had given him strength and speed that matched the elvish, everything had changed. Maybe he could really be useful in the battle against Galbatorix. Maybe, just maybe, he could live up to the hopes the elves had put into the new rider.

But those new circumstances also held problems, for now all the elvish families would try to pull him into their maze of politics. And that was something she couldn't allow to happen. The Rider had to keep his mind on the task and not on the political games of the elvish people. Also Eragon wasn't experienced enough to understand their ways, he could easily get caught in something he wouldn't be able to get out of anymore.

Islanzadi was distracted from her thoughts by Blagden, who landed on a branch next to her. She acknowledged him with a nod, but said nothing. The bird didn't speak either. So they stood in silence, watching the beautiful garden. After a while Blagden croaked and turned his head to look at Islanzadi.

„Neither flames or sword,

heal a broken heart

it needs more to be restored

some nice words might be a start.", he said. Islanzadi looked up, surprised.

„What is that supposed to mean?", she asked, annoyed by the birds riddle. But Blagden just blinked and remained silent. Finally he spread his wings and set off into the depths of the Tialdari Hall, leaving Islanzadi behind.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

That evening, Eragon was sitting on his bed, talking to Saphira, who had curled up on her own sleeping-place. The dragon tried to talk him into talking to Arya, excusing himself for his unwanted confession, but he couldn't stand seeing the elf right now. So he told Saphira that he needed a bit more time, to let the pain fade, before he faced Arya again.

Saphira was about to say something, but was interrupted by a knock on the door to the tree-house. Eragon looked up, slightly startled. It was already late and he wasn't expecting anyone. Nevertheless he stood up and walked through the corridor to the main-door of his quarters. He didn't care to ask who it was, he just opened the door.

Surprised he stepped back as he recognized the newcomer. In the doorway, right in front of him, stood Islanzadi, queen of the elves.

_Oh, no!_, Eragon said to Saphira. _What is she doing here? She's the last person I want to see right now._

He didn't show his displeasure, though. The Rider carefully trained his features to be blank and his body-language to be neutral.

„Islanzadi Dröttning.", he said, still not quiet sure what to make of the situation. Just in time he remembered to be polite and use the formal elvish greeting. „_Atra Esterni ono thelduin._"

Islanzadi smiled thinly, but returned the greeting.

„_Un du Evarinya ono varda._", she answered.

„_Mor'ranr lifa unin Hjarta onr._", Eragon finished.

„May I come in?", the queen asked.

„Of course, your majesty.", Eragon said hastily and stepped aside to let her in. With his mind he could sense the queen greeting Saphira, who lifted her head to look at the elf and returned the greeting.

„What brings you here, Islanzadi Dröttning?", Eragon asked, after Saphira had finished. Islanzadi turned to him again and looked at him, like she was searching something in his face.

„Word has reached me that you are not doing well.", the queen finally said. Eragon couldn't help it, he felt a stunned expression form on his face. He had tried to hide it so much, that it slightly angered him, that someone had found out. Maybe Arya had told her mother? No, she wouldn't. She and the queen weren't that close. But someone must have told her. So who could know about his sadness?

„I'm perfectly healthy.", Eragon answered. He was talking in the common language, but he still preferred not to lie to Islanzadi openly. After all she was the queen of the elves, it certainly wouldn't be wise to anger her.

„I did not refer to your state of physical health.", Islanzadi simply replied.

A solid, awkward silence followed, during which Eragon had no clue what he was supposed to say next. He couldn't tell the queen the truth, but neither could he keep lying to her.

Eragon cast a helpless glance at Saphira, but the dragon shrugged and said nothing.

_Saphira, what am I to do?_, he asked.

_Oh, little one. Tell her the truth._, she answered, sending him a wave of positive feelings.

_What? You want me to tell her that I'm heartbroken because her daughter rejected me? She's most likely going to kill me if I tell her that!_

_No, I didn't mean, that you should be that honest. I think it would be sufficient if you tell her, that you are experiencing an emotional low, but will get past it._

_Without giving her a reason for it?_, Eragon inquired unsure.

_She is the queen, her main concern is the well being of her people. She most likely doesn't even want to hear your reasons. I guess she came here to check whether your mind is still on the task._

Eragon gave the mental equivalent of a nod, before he focused on Islanzadi again. Only then he noticed that the queen had been watching him the whole time, while he had been busy talking to Saphira. Although by now she stood near one of the windows, even though Eragon hadn't noticed her moving.

„I... currently find myself in a state of... emotional unease... but there is no reason to worry, I still know my duties and I won't fulfill them any less, than I have done before.", Eragon said as diplomatic as possible for him. The words didn't seem to have the effect they were supposed to have, though. Islanzadi merely raised an eyebrow.

„I'm sure of that, Eragon. Still you won't be of much use, however hard you try, if something is pulling you down. I guess you haven't spoken to anyone about it?"

„No, I haven't.", Eragon answered slowly. The last thing he had expected when she had turned up at his his doorstep, was the gentleness she used right now. Of course it could all be an act, but that thought felt wrong to him.

„You should. At least to Oromis, or to Orik if you feel closer to him. After all the things you have been through, that would be the best.", she said and Eragon was stunned by the softness of her voice as she did so. Nevertheless he didn't want to show that much weakness, he didn't want everyone to believe him a lovesick child.

„I thank you for your advice and for coming here, even though there certainly are more important matters waiting for you, but I think I can manage on my own.", he said, as gently as he could. Still it managed to make the gentleness disappear from Islanzadis face.

„It would bring great shame upon my people and me if you get harmed in any way, while we are supposed to take care of you.", she took a step towards him. „You are a hero, you have proved that.", another step in his direction. „But you are still young. Not long ago you were just an ordinary boy.", one step more. „Don't expect too much of yourself, that would be of no use for anyone, the least for you."

By now she was standing right in front of him, only a few inches dividing them. Eragon had listened to her little speech and saw her approaching, but was too fascinated by this new side of the queen to do anything but watch. He could feel her warm breath ghosting over his skin, and could smell the light scent she owned, like wild flowers and the forest itself. Being so close to the queen, he felt awkward and nervous.

The queen looked him right in the eyes and for him it felt like Islanzadi could read every single one of his thoughts, without even trying to touch his mind.

Then suddenly he felt something touch the outer side of his hand and nearly flinched. It took a lot of self-control to battle the instinct to do so down, but Eragon wanted to know what would happen next and feared that it'd break the moment if he moved. So instead of looking down he asked Saphira.

_She has touched your hand with hers._, was the answer.

_Why would she... ?_, he was cut off.

For the tiniest of moments he could see Islanzadi move, but it was far too fast for him to react. The next thing he noticed was a pair of foreign lips covering his own and surprise momentarily blanking his mind. It felt surprisingly good, but that couldn't stop the realization from hitting him: Islanzadi, Aryas mother, queen of the elves, was kissing him! ...

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Please review if you like, I'd like to know what you think.

I'd like to make this a multichaptered story, but that depends on the feedback I get. There is no use in writing a story if no one reads it, eh? ^^


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

Next! =)

Okay, firstly I have to say, that I am terribly sorry that it took me so long to update. I promise the next chapter will be up sooner. I'll try to publish a chapter every month like I do with my other multichaptered story.

I'm very happy that so many people read the first chapter and liked it. When I published it I had not expected that. So I am very thankful for all the nice reviews and of course I will continue this story. I promise.

But I think I have to warn you, because if you expect something fluffy in this chapter you will be disappointed. Honestly, I didn't label this fic a „Drama" for nothing. So I won't go easy on the characters for a while. The fluffy bits will have to wait for a while. I hope that is not a problem.

Oh and to DreamWriter89: I totally understand what you mean and it's not like I'm doing this only for reviews or such, but since it takes me quiet a while to write a chapter and I have to spell check them over and over again (as I've said, I'm not a native speaker, but I don't want to let the story suffer because of it) it's nice and encouraging to get some feedback. =)

And now on with the story. I guess you have waited long enough ;)

* * *

><p>The next day started in a very unpleasant way for Eragon. He had spent the whole night pacing through his rooms, unable to calm himself down, unable to understand what had happened that evening. It was like his mind was racing at high speed, but did not know where to go. The boy was aware that Islanzadi had left right after the kiss, giving Eragon no time to react. He had not noticed it, but the queen had been as shocked as the boy himself. She had left in great hurry, leaving the doors wide open on her way out.<p>

Hours later he had finally managed to close them, although it had required more than a bit of Saphira's help. Eragon had spent about an hour after the queen had left just standing at the same spot, not moving, just staring after Islanzadi, even though the elf was already out of sight.

Saphira had tried to talk to her Rider, but the boy was too caught in his own thoughts to recognize many of the things she said. One of the first things still lingered in his mind, though. The dragon had advised him to go after the queen, but Eragon had pretended not to hear her. He wanted to know what all that had been about, but he knew that he couldn't stand facing Islanzadi again. He would probably never be able to look her in the eyes again - ever. The thought of it already made his face burn with embarrassment.

Upon sunrise Eragon and Saphira made their way to Oromis' house, flying over the emerald forest, momentarily bathed in a warm golden light. Eragon could not appreciate the beauty of his surrounding, though. He was tired, his body ached with weariness, but that was nothing compared to the fog of sleepiness in his mind. It wasn't so much caused by the lack of sleep, as by the constant work it had to do. His brain could only take a certain amount of stress before it would take a leave. So he spent the flight staring ahead, without actually seeing anything; only enjoying being able to leave his worries behind on the ground.

* * *

><p>Eragon spent the morning in the woods listening to the minds of the animals surrounding him. Or at least he was trying to do so. In reality he was far too distracted to concentrate on the nature all around him. So he spent several hours sitting on a piece of wood, starring into the landscape, listening to his own thoughts. It was slowly driving him insane, especially because they were arguing with themselves.<p>

_She kissed you, that means she likes you!_

_Oh, but she ran from you! _

_Why do you care anyway? It's not like you are interested in her!_

_Then why are you still thinking of her?_

In the end Eragon had had enough. "Shut up!", he shouted and jumped to his feet. At the sudden noise several birds fled from the trees, flying away into the sky. Embarrassed by his own actions Eragon looked around to check whether someone was around who might have heard him. Fortunately nobody was to be seen.

Frustrated the Rider returned to Oromis' house, knowing that it would be of no use if he tried to meditate any longer. Normally listening to natures melody helped to cheer Eragon up, this time it only drove him into a darker mood. Oromis must have noticed that, but did not mention it. Instead the elf handed him a bunch of scrolls, as Eragon entered the little house.

So Eragon sat down and tried to read, although he knew that his chances of success were next to non-existent. His suspicion was proven right, as he noticed that it had taken him more than an hour to read a single page. Currently he read the same sentence for the fifth time, without being able to recall what it was saying, at all. His thoughts were permanently drifting from one end of his possibilities to the other. Just moments ago he had been ready to stand up, walk all the way back to Ellesmera and talk to Islanzadi, to ask her what all that had been about.

Now Eragon was more on the "let's hide and hope everything will solve itself before someone discovers me"-side. He was slowly getting very sick and tired of the constant changes of mind, but every time he thought he knew what he had to do, doubts were beginning to rise again. The fact that he couldn't talk to Saphira, because she was off with Gleadr, learning things her Rider should not know about; only made things worse. She usually was the voice of reason in his world, so without her he was left with his uncoordinated thoughts. He closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair and sighed. He was exhausted. Nevertheless Eragon once again tried to concentrate on the text in front of him.

"Eragon.", he heard faintly, but chose to ignore it. Eragon wasn't even sure if his ears weren't playing tricks on him.

"Eragon!"

The Rider looked up, surprised. He hadn't really noticed Oromis, but suddenly the elf was sitting right in front of him. "Yes, master?", Eragon asked bewildered.

"You were not paying attention.", Oromis stated.

"I'm sorry, master.", Eragon said and blinked, like he had been asleep.

Oromis studied Eragon for a while, without saying a word. Then, after what seemed like several minutes, the elf began to speak. "What is wrong, boy? You have been distracted all morning."

Eragon noticed that they were using the Ancient Language, which brought him into an unfortunate situation, because he could not lie in that language. It took the boy several moments to form an answer, that was no lie, but not really the truth either.

"It's nothing of importance, I'm just... tired, I guess."  
>Oromis gave Eragon a doubtful look, as if he had noticed that his student wasn't telling the whole truth. The human Rider felt very uncomfortable under his masters gaze, but managed not to fidget.<p>

"Eragon, if something is wrong you have to tell me. It won't do you any good if you keep it all to yourself. Especially now, after the change the dragons have brought upon you.", Oromis said. The elf seemed to be worried.

In a way the old elf was like a father for Eragon and he really would have liked to talk to him about this, but he knew he could not. Even if his master would believe him, what advice could he give? There really was next to nothing Eragon could do and involving someone else into this mess would only cause more trouble.

"It's... it's something I can't talk to you about. I'm sorry, master, but I have to deal with this on my own.", Eragon tried to convince the elf. He didn't believe that it would be a successful try, though.

Oromis gave him a doubtful look again, but this time he refrained to argue. All the elf said was: "All right, I will not question you about this again, if you promise that whatever it is won't affect your studies again. Otherwise you will have to tell me."

Eragon looked up, grateful. He hadn't expected this, but it was a fortunate turn of events. All he had to do to keep the elf from asking was to hide how confused he was... well, maybe it wasn't so easy after all. He had to try, though, there was nothing else he could do. Eragon didn't want to tell Oromis, because he did not know how the older Rider would react.

"I promise, Ebrithil.", the boy said honestly. That was the trick one had to use if he wanted to lie in the Ancient Language: believe what you say and it will be the truth, at least for the moment.

"Good.", Oromis answered slowly. He stood up and turned to leave. As he walked away he said: "Now get back to your studies, Glaedr and Saphira will return soon."

* * *

><p>The rest of the day passed painfully slow for Eragon. Every moment he had to watch his own thoughts, trying hard not to let them drift, keeping them at the tasks at hand. As he finally flew home with Saphira the boy was quiet proud, because he seemed to have managed well enough to not have caught Oromis attention. The Rider was quiet exhausted upon his arrival at his treehouse. Still there was something on his mind and he had a feeling he should deal with it, to lift at least a bit of pressure from his bothered mind.<p>

So later that evening Eragon decided to settle things with Arya. He had to apologize to her, again. The fact that he had brought himself in a situation where he had to beg her forgiveness once more brought a foul taste to his mouth. _Why do I always screw up?_, he wondered.

_You are young, no wonder you make mistakes. As long as you learn from them, there is nothing wrong with that._ Saphira said, softly nudging his shoulder with her nose.

Shaking his head slightly, Eragon rested his hand at her scaly shoulder. _I'm glad that I have you._ he told her and pushed a warm feeling of companionship through their mental bond.

Without further hesitation Eragon left the treehouse to search for Arya. He would start his search at the Tialdari Hall, the most likely place to get informations about her whereabouts. Unfortunately it also raised the possibility of meeting Islanzadi... a thought Eragon pushed aside as soon as he noticed it.

* * *

><p>About two hours later Eragon was back at the treehouse. He sat silently on his bed, sorting his once again tangled thoughts. At the Tialdari Hall the Rider had learned, that Arya had left, not just left the hall or Ellesmera, no, she had left Du Weldenvarden. Eragon had known all along that it would eventually come to this. After all Arya had duties to fulfill, in Ellesmera, but also, or even more so, at the Varden. Still it bothered him that she had left without a single word of goodbye. Maybe a personal meeting was to much to ask, after the incident shortly after the Bloodoath Ceremony, but a letter, or just a short note would certainly have been possible...<p>

Eragon had really wished to talk to her, the time had seemed to be right, he had felt it. But now that she was gone he could not settle things with her. It made the Rider feel sad in a way, because this would have been the perfect chance to lift a bit of the pressure of his mind, to set at least a few things straight.

_You will see her again. One day we have to return to the Varden and that's when you'll meet her again, if she does not return to Du Weldenvarden earlier, that is._ Saphira tried to comfort him. She had curled up on her own sleeping place, watching Eragon from one, halfway opened eye. Her Rider smiled a bit, although it wasn't a very convincing smile.

_Yeah, maybe. But that is all so far from now and I had hoped to settle things with her now, so that I could go on without worrying if she will ever talk to me again. _Eragon answered quietly.

Saphira blew a cloud of grey smoke into his direction, while growling at him. _Of course she will talk to you again! She likes you, even if she doesn't love you, you matter to her. She needs time. I guess, that's why she left: to have time._

_You think so?_ Eragon asked hopeful. Saphira nodded slowly, barely lifting her head off the pillows. A wave of reassurance was sent through their mental bond and left Eragon smiling. Exhausted he sank down onto his bed and rested his head on the pillows. His eyes were already closing, as he heard Saphira ask: _What about Islanzadi?_

_Later. I'll deal with that later._ Eragon mumbled as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>Three days passed and for Eragon things had improved. He was still thinking about his incident with Islanzadi, but he managed to push those thoughts aside, while he was training with Oromis. Sometimes he caught himself considering his options, but since he never found a sufficient one it became easier each time he did so.<p>

This morning, though, things were different. Shortly after he had taken a bath, Eragon went to meet Vanir. It was their second meeting since the dragons had changed Eragon. Their first training after that had been a complete success for the Rider. He had finally managed to win once or twice. Since previously the boy had been the one to loose their match, he enjoyed finally being able to fight without having to fear the pain, even more. Now that the Rider could show his whole capabilities he had managed to gain some of Vanir's respect.

Eragon was quiet excited to have another chance to prove his abilities. Moving without the shadow of pain lingering above him was like an addiction, he didn't want to stop. Vanir as well showed more ambition now that he finally had been able to see how good Eragon actually was.

They fought for about two hours, before Eragon had to return to Oromis' house. Saphira had already kept reminding him of that for half an hour, but the Rider didn't really want to stop. At last he thanked Vanir and walked over to Saphira, who spread her wings demonstratively.

The moment Eragon climbed onto the dragon's back, something caught his attention. From the corner of his eye he saw a small group of elves walk through the forest near the training area. He recognized most of the elves, they were Islanzadi's advisers and in the middle of the little group the boy could see the queen. She walked between the other elves like they were supposed to protect her, what from Eragon wasn't sure. A shiver ran down his spine as he saw her. The boy could see that the queen wore the dress made completely of swan feathers, she looked like she had an angel's wings wrapped around her. Eragon had never really noticed before, but she really was beautiful, not just in the "all elves are beautiful"-way, this was different. The Rider couldn't describe it, but something about her amazed him, something that he had failed to notice earlier, or that simply had not been there.

_Eragon. You are starring._ Saphira reminded him. The Rider ignored her, though. He was far too distracted by the view to listen. Mesmerized he watched as Islanzadi and her group stopped and the queen turned her head. Had she noticed him watching her, Eragon wondered. Involuntarily he lowered his head, as if to hide.

His suspicion was confirmed, as the queen looked him right in the eye. Although many meter's put distance between them, Eragon felt like she was standing right in front of him. Her dark green eyes seemed to hypnotize him. A kind of warm ice ran through his veins and he wished he could go over to her and... well, he wasn't so sure what he was supposed to do if he could actually reach her.

Then, suddenly the queen turned away again and it was as if their little moment had never happened at all. But Eragon knew that she had seen him. She must have, since she had looked him right in the eye.

The fact that she had just walked away left Eragon with a strange feeling of disappointment. Did he actually mean anything to her or was she just playing games with him?

* * *

><p>The incident followed Eragon for the rest of the day. Even as he returned to Oromis' house, where he usually pushed all thoughts of Islanzadi aside, he couldn't silence the voices in his mind that kept going through the events of the morning.<p>

"Last time we talked about this you promised that this mysterious problem of yours won't affect your studies anymore.". Oromis interrupted Eragons thoughts. The boy jumped slightly, as he heard his masters voice. As he turned his head he noticed, that his master was standing right behind him. "But as it turns out you couldn't keep your promise."

"Master, I...", Eragon tried to apologize, but Oromis won't let him finish the sentence. "No, Eragon, you had your chance, now I want to know what is up!"

The Rider had never seen the elf so stern before. He knew that this time his master won't let the topic go until Eragon had explained himself.

"Please, I... I shouldn't...", Eragon tried again, but it was of no use. Even before Oromis interrupted him, the boy had been able to see in the elf's gaze that he would not let go.

"Eragon!"

"It will only cause trouble if I tell you!", the boy nearly begged, but Oromis didn't listen to the Rider's excuses.

"That's for me to decide, I am the teacher and you are my student.", he said.

Eragon struggled with himself. He wanted to tell Oromis, but he feared that it would cause more trouble than he already was in. He sent a hopeful thought towards Saphira, but the dragon just shrugged. _Tell him, little one. Maybe he knows what to do._

That was all Eragon needed and so, finally, he told someone his story. The words passed his lips easily, like they were happy to be released at last.

As Eragon had finished his report, Oromis' face had turned blank. The elf's expression didn't give away any of his thoughts, but Eragon feared that he would be angry. He considered whether he still could find a way out of this. Maybe if he told Oromis that it had all been some kind of joke... But he knew that it would be of little use.

_Don' be afraid, little one. Telling him the truth was the right thing to do. Don't give up now._ Saphira encouraged him.

"Master?", Eragon asked carefully.

"You can not be serious, Eragon.", Oromis suddenly said, sounding more than a bit disbelieving. His voice was slightly raised and his gaze was fixed on Eragon as if he wanted to peer right into the boy's soul.

This sudden outburst startled the Rider a bit.

"I am! I swear it happened exactly the way I told you!", Eragon exclaimed. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of lying by the old elf. How could Oromis think he was lying when it had taken Eragon so much effort to tell him at all?

"I don't know why you would lie, but I can't believe you, not without evidence. I am sorry, Eragon Finiarel."

So Eragon switched to the Ancient Language: "I swear, Islanzadi, queen of the elves, kissed me."

Oromis said nothing. For endless minutes the elf stayed silent, all he did was look at Eragon, like the boy had just grown another head.

After several minutes Oromis nodded, then he turned away and they continued Eragon's training like the conversation had never happened.

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><p>That evening Eragon and Saphira made their way home, without having raised the topic again. Oromis had not uttered a single word about it and so the younger Rider had stayed silent too. Internally he wondered, though, what his master thought. Something was clearly on the elf's mind, but Eragon couldn't quiet understand what it was.<p>

* * *

><p>Oromis watched as Eragon and Saphira flew away with a look of determination on his face. He knew exactly what he had to do.<p>

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><p>So this was the second chapter. I hope you liked it and if you want please review.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

Okay, I know this once again was quite a long time until I updated, and I want to thank you for waiting that long. It's great that you had that much patience.

* * *

><p>The morning was beautiful, the sun had just risen but was already shining brightly and in the Tialdari Hall the most beautiful flowers were turning their colourful heads towards the light. Very few elves were walking through the garden at this hour. Most of them were either still occupied with their breakfast or were busy training their fighting or magical skills.<p>

The few members of her people who visited the garden this early usually came to sing with the many birds, which called the Tialdari Hall their home. Islanzadi saw a small group of elves sitting beneath the overhanging branches of a willow. The three male elves were playing the flute, while the only woman amongst them was singing with a clear, beautiful voice.

Islanzadi stopped and listened for a while, unnoticed by the small group. She enjoyed this moment of peace before she would have to return to her daily duties. She knew that other species liked to imagine that life in the realm of the elves was like a never ending dream, but for her it was just as hard work as for any mortal king or queen.

Involuntarily she thought of Eragon and the amazement the boy had looked at her kingdom with. For him everything was new and utterly perfect, while she could see the inner workings behind those things. In a way he reminded her of her husband, in the days when Evandar had still been very young. They shared the same joyful positive greenness that made one forgive the minor flaws they had. They both were thankful and quick to show mercy, while at the same time tending to be impatient.

But of course she could not exactly compare them since their backgrounds couldn't be more different. Still she liked Eragon even though she could not really say why. It was that thought that led her to another question that had remained unanswered from the moment it first appeared to now. Why had she kissed the Rider?

The only thing she knew was that he had seemed so very sad and exhausted in that moment and she had wanted nothing more than to offer comfort. But he was not a child and she was not his mother. Her feelings towards him had never been of that nature. Come to think of it Islanzadi realised that she didn't knew how old he was or what it meant amongst his people. If she had to guess she would have said that his level of maturity lay somewhere close to Arya's as she had left Du Weldenvarden to join the Varden, just beyond the borders of adulthood, but definitely not a child any more.

Islanzadi knew of course that he was much too young to equal her or even someone her daughter's age, but she could not bring herself to think the man, all the free people left in Alagaesia put their hope in, a child. It would have been ridiculous to want him to win the war for them but don't think him old enough to make his own decisions.

While Islanzadi had been thinking the song had ended and the musicians were now rewarding their winged companions with a hand full of corn. So Islanzadi left before they could notice her presence. She wasn't in the mood for conversation or even company right now.

Through the fields of colourful flowers and giant trees, Islanzadi made her way towards a small pond that was hidden behind several small trees, whose branches shielded it from the view. Right now she sought solitude more than anything else. So she found a place near the water to sit and enjoyed the silence that was only broken by the voices of several birds.

* * *

><p>Oromis entered the Tialdari Hall through one of the commonly unknown side entrances. He preferred people not to know of his presence. After all he was here because of a private matter that better stayed a secret. The old elf made his way through the impressive garden, but had no interest in it's beauty at the moment. Islanzadi would be around here, she usually came to this place in the morning. Oromis knew that much, since he had known the queen for quite a while by now.<p>

As the Rider had expected, he found her all on her own standing near a small pond. The place was hidden from the common view by some branches, but Oromis knew what to look for. After all he had expected her to seek solitude.

"Islanzadi Dröttning," he greeted her and added the formal elvish greeting soon after that. She answered just as politely, although she seemed rather surprised to see him.

„Oromis Elda," Islanzadi began. "I had not expected you to come here today. In fact I had not expected you to come here at all."

Oromis had to suppress a grim smile. Of course she would not have expected him to visit her, to interfere into her concerns. He wanted to tell her that, but he was an elf and the etiquette of his people forbid such a thing. So he played along.

„There are pressing matters at hand which brought me here," he said instead.

„What matters are of such great importance to you?" Islanzadi asked obviously surprised and maybe a bit confused by the emphasis the Rider had added to his words. Although it was nearly impossible to read an elf's thoughts by the way his or her face moved or voice changed, Oromis knew what he had to look for. Nobody could disguise every single indicator and if one lived long enough amongst the elves he learned to identify them.

„They do not so much concern me, as my student." the older elf answered carefully studying the queens reaction to those words. To Oromis disappointment Islanzadi showed only a slight bit of concern and it soon vanished behind the normally distant expression she wore to hide her true thoughts. He had expected her to feel caught but she seemed too trained to show such a reaction.

„What seems to be the problem with Eragon." Islanzadi asked, maybe a tiny bit too fast. Oromis noticed it, but said nothing about it.

„A few days ago I noticed a change in the boy's behaviour. At first I thought they might be caused by the ritual the dragons used to modify the boy's physiology, but as it turned out something else caused the boy's troubles."

„I understand you have asked him about it?"

Islanzadi asked and again Oromis could sense a kind of fear in the queens voice.

"Yes, I did." he answered simply because he had decided not to make it that easy for her.

"What did he say?" she asked and it seemed to him like she was getting a bit unnerved.

"He was very reluctant to say anything at all, I must admit. But I can be very persistent if I see the need for it." the Rider said not letting the queen off the metaphorical hook just yet.

"So he told you what caused his troubles." Islanzadi not so much asked but stated.

Oromis only nodded.

"What did he tell you?" the queen asked bluntly with more than a hint of frustration in her voice, ending the little game Oromis played.

"I guess you know very well what he told me, or do you think I let him run into as much problems as he can?"

Islanzadi winced slightly as she heard his harsh words but recovered quick enough.

"So you know about what I did." she soberly summed up.

"Yes, and I'm here to question your motivation to do such a thing." Oromis said with a neutral expression. He didn't want any of his emotions or thoughts on that matter to show on his face or in his behaviour.

"What makes you think I'll answer said questions. As you once pointed out I can't give you orders, because you are a Rider, but you are greatly mistaking if you think that _you_ can give _me_ orders. I'm not one of your students and I certainly don't have to justify to you." the queen pointed out. The agitation in her voice was clearly noticeable and it was all directed on Oromis.

"Don't get me wrong." Oromis said because he sensed that this was going into the wrong direction. "I'm not planing on telling anyone about this. I'm only worried about my student, I don't want to soil your reputation. This is not some kind of blackmail attempt."

Islanzadi said nothing.

"All I want is that you leave Eragon alone. The boy already has enough to worry about without you adding up to that list. He needs to concentrate on the tasks at hand and he is far to young to disregard all personal problems."

Once again Islanzadi stayed silent.

Oromis knew that he should leave it at that but he could still feel the anger that based on the fact that Islanzadi should have known better and that Eragon was only a boy that could not compete the knowledge and life experience the two elves had. It was said anger that forced him to say the next words and later on the Rider felt ashamed that he had allowed such a single-minded feeling to control his actions.

"Did you know that he thinks that he is in love with Arya? She rejected him very persistently so that he would not be tempted to neglect his duties. But you..."

Oromis caught himself just in time. The last thing he wanted to do was to say something the queen could understand in a wrong way. After all she was the queen of the elves and he lived in her realms.

"I should go now." he said quickly and retreated after using the formal elvish greeting, which wasn't answered. The queen seemed far to caught up in her own thoughts to pay any attention to him any more.

* * *

><p>After Oromis had left, Islanzadi stayed in the solitude of the little pavilion-like place for a while. She needed the silence to think and to be close to her own feelings. While she was around the other elves in the Tialdari Hall or elsewhere she always had to wear a mask. She was the queen and because of that she had duties to fulfil, maybe more than any other living elf, because everyone was watching her, everything she did was judged by her people and others. She spoke for her people all the time, even if she didn't intended to.<p>

Around her, people were always very careful and that had caused Islanzadi to be very careful around her people in return. Maybe that was why she liked being around Eragon. The boy was always honest he did not play games of politics like most people in command did. One could rely on the boy's words without having to guess what he tried to hide behind his words, because he didn't try to hide any political strategies behind them.

Also the simple upbringing the Rider had experienced had made him something special. At least Islanzadi thought so because Eragon wasn't like the rich youngsters who always pointed out who they were, which abilities they had, who their ancestors were or such. He just calmly went along without worrying what people thought about him. A long time had passed since she had last met someone like him. Someone who carried such a burden so heroically.

Nevertheless Islanzadi could understand why Oromis had been so agitated. Maybe she would have been too if their places had been exchanged. She knew that she should not have acted the way she did, there was no logic in her actions. But she could not bring herself to think of them as something wrong. Of course they were questionable in some ways, even though they had seemed kinda right during that moment. If all this had simply been about making a move on someone who was a great deal younger than herself the queen would not have wasted another thought on Oromis' doubts but this was different. It was much bigger than that and a lot more people were involved.

There was only one thing Islanzadi could do to smooth things up a bit. She would have to talk to Eragon. She would have to tell him that she had made a mistake and that he had to forget about the things that had happened. Of course that would mean that she would have to forget as well…

Islanzadi sensed that those thoughts were leading her to a dangerous realisation which she would not want to know about. So she tried to find something else to think about. Anything. ...

But Oromis' words would not leave her mind. _He thinks that he is in love with Arya._ Her daughter had done better than she had. The princess had rejected him as he had made a move on her and Islanzadi... well, she had made a move on Eragon!

It wasn't like she had done it for her own entertainment, though. The simple truth was that she liked Eragon and maybe, just maybe if things were different she would hope that they would actually have a chance...


	4. Chapter 4

There was a soft knock on the front door of Eragon's tree house. Since it was late and Eragon didn't expect any visitors that late in the evening he was a bit confused as to whom it might be. He soon found out, though, as he opened the door to see someone he had least of all expected it to be.

_Islanzadi!_ Eragon mentally exclaimed. Saphira's head shot up as she heard his thoughts.

_What is she doing here?_ The dragon growled obviously not very pleased by the identity of the visitor.

_She's the queen, Saphira._ Eragon reminded her and silently asked her to be friendly.

_She may be that, but she also is the cause of a lot of trouble lately. A lot of trouble for you!_ She was right, Eragon knew it.

Unsure what to do, the Rider asked the queen to come in before settling for the usual elvish greeting ritual. She answered just as politely and thanked him to welcome her that late.

They settled down in Eragon's study because Saphira had insisted not to leave him alone and for obvious reasons the Rider wasn't comfortable with letting the queen into his bedroom.

Several minutes passed with various uncomfortable small talk, while the tension was growing thick in the room that was too small to bottle all of it up inside itself. It was obvious that they were dancing around each other, trying to avoid a certain topic they desperately wanted to talk about.

It was Eragon who finally broke the silence.

"Why did you come here?" it wasn't his best attempt of a gentle approach but it worked nevertheless.

"I came to apologize for what I did during my last visit. It was unnecessary and led to a lot of confusion. I'm sorry about that." Islanzadi answered as if she was reading the words from an invisible paper.

Eragon gave her a blank look of confusion and surprise. He certainly hadn't expected _this_.

"I'm sorry, but I need to know. Why did you kiss me in the first place?" Eragon just had to ask, it was essential as if his world would fall apart if he didn't. Those doubts were ripping him apart from inside and he was mature enough to know it. On the other hand he was enough of a youngster to add "I've always thought you were disappointed that I and not some elf became the next Rider."

Islanzadi said nothing and Eragon interpreted it as agreement. He couldn't help it, this made him angry. Everyone kept considering him a weak child, despite all the things he did to prove them wrong.

"You think that I'm a threat to your people because I'm a weak human being that would surrender to Galbatorix if he does only so much as look at me. But I'll tell you something: I might not be as powerful and elegant as you elves are but I can stand my ground and I will not bow. Not to Galbatorix or any other tyrant!"

Eragon took a breather. The rage was still running freely through his veins, his mind, his whole being. It wasn't his alone, that much the Rider knew. Saphira was as agitated as he was. He could feel the dragon's anger in the form of flaming thoughts in the back of his mind. They were all saying the same thing QUIT PLAYING WITH MY RIDER!

It felt good to let some of the doubts, the confusion and the anger of the past few days out and Islanzadi although she was the queen seemed to be the perfect target for it. After all she was the cause of all this stuff.

"I will not betray the free people to anyone!" he breathed. By now his voice was barely more than a whisper but it didn't lack the intensity of his former speech, only it's volume.

Islanzadi had stayed silent, letting the boy pour out his heart. His rage had caught her off guard and like a deer caught in the headlights she had watched and listened. Her eyes had slowly widened as she heard his accusations but also his promises. She wasn't sure whether he could keep them but it felt good to hear them nevertheless. If he fought with as much power he might actually have a chance to overthrow the king.

"I never..." Islanzadi began but wasn't sure what she wanted to say. She wished she could tell him that she never had harbored such doubts, that she had never considered him a threat but it would be a lie. Of course she had doubted him! How could she not have? Although now that she knew him, had seen the burning wish and determination in his eyes, she knew that she was wrong. He would not betray them, he was much more powerful than she had given him credit for. All those things Islanzadi wanted to tell Eragon if only she could hope that he would believe her.

"Never what? Never wanted me to find out about that?! Well, guess what I'm also smarter than you elves give me credit for!" The anger still hadn't worn off. It surprised Eragon how much of it he could find in himself, as if a door had been opened it all came rushing out. And it felt good to let it out. Saphira was right, Islanzadi had played some stupid game with him and he had to free himself of all those screwed up feelings this had caused in him.

"I know that you are smart. I know that you are brave and honest. You are so worth to be called a Dragonrider." Islanzadi finally said, having composed herself enough to find the sufficient words. Eragon wanted to say something about that, wanted to stop her from pulling him into that twisted game of hers again, but the queen silenced him with a single small gesture.

"But I also know that the person I see now right in front of me is not the person I saw as you first stepped into the Tialdari Hall. I want to be honest with you. When I first saw you I thought most of the things you accused me of thinking, but it has turned out that I was wrong." Islanzadi spoke in such a calm voice that it began to unnerve Eragon. He wished she would not be so composed, so that he wouldn't feel so stupid when having such strong emotions. He wished he could make her feel as confused as she made him feel, so that she would understand what it was like for him. It was of no use, though. The Rider knew that he could not stand his ground in a mind game with her, so why should he try? The only thing he saw any use in was to be honest.

"Quit playing this game with me, Islanzadi Dröttning." Eragon whispered wearily. "I'm only a farm boy who got lucky and got such a wonderful soul mate" he glanced over at Saphira. "and payed a high price for it. I can't stand up to your mind games, nor do I want to."

His voice had lost it's former power and he suddenly looked as tired as he felt.

Islanzadi was shocked by the certainty with which he said those words, by the tiredness he seemed to radiate. How could he think so little of himself?

"I never intended to play any kind of game or trick on you." she breathed, not trusting her own voice enough to speak louder.

"Then what is it you intended." Eragon asked simply, not really willing to continue this conversation.

"I intended nothing." Islanzadi confessed, she could feel the next words rise from deep within her but felt unable to stop them from being spoken.

The queen heard herself say "I did those things because I've fallen in love with you and don't know how to handle this."

Eragon heard her. He heard the words with two pairs of ears and two minds and still he couldn't even come close to understand them. His mind had gone completely blank in a matter of seconds. There was not a single thought left in his head, so he opened his link to Saphira a bit wider but was only greeted by an equal amount of confusion and helplessness. They were both equally dumbstruck and there was not a single response either of them could think of.

Islanzadi saw the expression of shock, surprise and bewilderment on two faces. Two piercing stares were directed on her. The queen felt herself writhe inside. What had she done?! How could she have been so stupid?! She had known all along that he would be disgusted by this!

For long moments she waited if some sort of reply would come but there was only silence that filled the room to the rim with awkwardness. Finally she couldn't stand it anymore. She turned and ran. This time she actually ran, not so much like a child in tears, but like someone running from his or her demons. It felt like the air inside the tree house had become to thick to breath and she would die from the lack of oxygen if she stayed any longer.

* * *

><p>As she finally stopped somewhere in the depths of the forest that was Ellesmera Islanzadi took a deep breath. The cold night air filled her lungs and cleared her mind enough to think at least a bit more properly than before. The first thing that occurred to her was that this was the second time she had fled the Rider's quarters. She usually wasn't one to run away, but something about this human had her at a complete loss. It was never easy, there was never a path she could see, she was always walking blindfolded in the dark when it came to Eragon.<p>

Exhausted Islanzadi sank down onto the root of some giant tree. Was it true? She asked herself. Was she in love with him? Now that she had spoken the words it had become an undeniable fact, like the realization had been waiting in the back of her mind only to hit her when she least expected it. How could she not have noticed this earlier?

Islanzadi's heart sank a bit more as she remembered the look on his face. He surely was completely disgusted by her. How could he not be? The thought was weighting heavily on her mind. She didn't want him to be disgusted by her, she wanted him to... love her back? No, maybe that was too much to ask for, but maybe to like her? Would that be a sufficient wish?

* * *

><p>Eragon had only managed two movements after the queen had left. He unwillingly fell backwards, to find Saphira break his fall by catching him with her front paw, and had curled up at her side. This was getting so messed up! Every time he thought he had gained at least a bit of control of the situation the queen managed to make it all even more complicated! Every bloody time!<p>

It didn't make it that much easier that she settled for fleeing, or that his mind always went blank when she did something unexpected. What exactly was he supposed to think now, anyway? Was she disgusted by him, by herself, was she scared or was this after all just a game? He found himself drowning in an ocean of question with no land of answers to be seen.

Saphira rested her giant head next to his and breathed a warm cloud of smoky air into his air. He could feel her comforting thoughts through their link, but he knew that she as well was at a loss of answers.

_Oh little one, I wish the world would go easier on you._

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><p>… or the author would. ;-)<p>

Erm... yeah this is the first time I don't feel the need to apologize because of posting so damn late in the course of this story. Sorry about the previous time anyway.

Summer holidays for me also means that I can sit in front of the computer in the middle of the night and write. Best time to do so, for me at least.

I'm not quite sure if the plot of this chapter is so easy to be followed but I decided to post it the way it is right now. Also I think I had them both a bit out of character. I guess the tragedian in me took over a bit...

Of course I also want to thank for all the reviews and yes I got the hint, I'm supposed to write faster. ;-) I'll try my best.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

I may have to inform you that this and the following chapters will require some knowledge about the original Inheritance Cycle plot. I decided not to retell every detail, because that would go a bit to far. I hope that doesn't bother you.

And of course I want to thank you for all the nice reviews, that's really encouraging.

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><p>His departure from Du Weldenvarden left Eragon with the feeling that he had really messed things up this time, although he wasn't entirely sure if he actually was to blame for this. He wasn't the one who kept running away from him and neither was he the one who had caught himself in an emotional maze.<p>

Now that he sat on Saphira's back and saw the forest slide away underneath him he couldn't resist the temptation to let all the doubts and strange feelings he had experienced here behind. It was the easiest thing to do, since he was going to war and had to concentrate on other things. After all he could pick them up again upon his return.

But there also was a nagging little voice in the back of his head that told him that he was leaving something important, something good behind, something greater than he could yet understand. It was strange, because although the Rider certainly had had a good time here and he would miss Oromis and Glaedr there was not nearly as much he had to leave behind as there had been when he had left Carvahall. The forest had never been his home, he had always known that he would have to go back to the Varden.

Orik who sat in front of him in Saphira's saddle didn't seem to experience any similar emotional problems. The dwarf was relaxed, humming a strange melody under his breath. He seemed to have gotten used to flying very fast, although he was still a bit pale and avoided looking downwards. There was no doubt that the other felt happy to leave the forest. A dwarf belongs into the mountains, not the forest. Eragon envied this feeling of belonging. He had no such place anymore. Even if he ever returned to Carvahall it simply wouldn't be the same anymore. Everything had become far to big to fit into such a small village.

With a shudder Eragon remembered the official farewell. Islanzadi had been as distant and unapproachable as usual and although her words had been friendly the awkwardness had been very prominent. She had treated him like she had when he had first arrived in Ellesmera, like he was nothing more than the Rider. Her voice hadn't changed as she told him to greet Arya. On the other hand the queen had seemed a bit hesitant, as she had handed him the gift. Their fingers had touched as she had handed him the bow. Her fingers had been cold and the touch had been awkward so that they both hurriedly withdrew.

The whole time they hadn't managed to look into each others eyes, like professional behavior would cease to be possible if they did. That was about the strangest thing the whole situation offered. Although they were merely a few feet apart it felt like several miles put distance between them.

Eragon had been very relieved that he was in a hurry, so that he was soon able to climb onto Saphira's back and begin the journey towards the Varden. At least it would spare him similar awkward situations in the nearer future.

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><p>That night they stopped somewhere near the edge of the forest. The three of them were tired and wanted nothing more than a few hours of sleep, so they had decided to find a place to rest. A small clearing offered them the perfect location to do so. So the three companions set up their camp there. While Eragon lit a fire, Saphira had already curled up into a ball of blue scales and wings. Orik and the Rider both ate something and then fell into companionable silence.<p>

The dwarf was still sitting beside the fire as Eragon finally lay down on his blanket. He could feel himself slowly falling asleep, exhausted by the long flight.

* * *

><p>Eragon shivered. The air was suddenly chilly and everything had turned gray. He didn't know where he was, but he somehow knew that this wasn't a nice place. From somewhere screams were reaching his ears, getting louder and clearer with every second he listened to them, until they were all around him. He could hear horses running over cobblestones and swords hitting swords and armors. Slowly it dawned on him that he was on a battle field.<p>

_Saphira?!_ He called, but there was only silence. _Saphira, where are you?_

Eragon stood up. He hadn't noticed it before, but he had been lying on the ground, his face turned towards a brick wall. Now that he was on his feet the Rider could see his surrounding. There were people all around him. They were all carrying weapons and fighting other people. Some of them were humans others were Urgals or dwarfs, he could even see some elves. But none of them seemed to recognize or even notice Eragon. He could walk amongst them without having to fear that they would attack him.

The scenery soon changed though, as Eragon noticed a man. He was an armor which had a expansion in the region of his stomach, and he swung a giant mace. All the warriors around him kept a safe distance towards him. Not only the Varden, but also the men who wore on Galbatorix' side. That man seemed powerful, a wizard even, because the Rider could literal feel the magic which protected the warrior around him.

Suddenly twelve elves on horses appeared. The warriors shifted on instinct to give them space to move. A woman in a golden armor led the little group of horsemen, as they attacked the man, who didn't seem to fear them. In fact he even managed to kill the first four elves, who had attacked him, with unnatural ease. Eragon wondered whether this man might be Galbatorix, but he could see no dragon nearby, least of all such a giant one as Shruikan. So who was this warrior?

The blood in Eragon's veins turned to ice as he focused on the elves again. He didn't recognize most of them, just one. The queen of the elves was amongst them. She was the leader, the one who wore the golden armor that added up to the impression that she had just stepped out of some kind of fairytale.

Shocked Eragon watched as the warrior killed most of the elves with his mace. He didn't seem to tire the slightest while doing so. His spells were protecting him, far better than Eragon had ever seen it. The man wasn't that much of a skilled fighter, but he didn't need to be. Some kind of dark magic must be the source of his power because Eragon knew of no possible way to possess enough energy to keep such magic up for such a long time.

Two elves and one Urgal tried to interfere, but they were no threat for the mighty warrior. He killed them with ease and concentrated on the riders again. It was scary to say at least.

Finally Islanzadi was the only one left. The stranger attacked her horse first. A single blow killed the animal and Islanzadi jumped out of the saddle as it fell, already attacking the man before her feet met the ground.

The repartee was incredibly fast. Even Eragon with his sharpened senses found it hard to focus on the movements. Their weapons met several times, but neither of them was able to gain an advantage. The human warrior was perfectly guarded by his spells and the queen was fast and skilled. But suddenly something changed. Eragon could tell even before he saw it, that something crucial was going to happen.

As the blade met the mace a blinding white light filled the whole area and Eragon couldn't see anything. He found himself praying in those moments, begging the gods to make Islanzadi the victor in this.

The light faded and a noise rang through the air. The next thing Eragon could see was that Islanzadi's blade was broken. The upper half of the blade was missing, all that remained was the hilt in Islanzadi's hand with a few inches of the broken blade attached to it.

"No." Eragon whispered, knowing that this was a horrible turn of events. Petrified he watched as the queen attacked the stranger with what had remained of her sword. Several times she tried to stab him, but his spells protected him every time, no matter how much force she used. Eragon heard her scream something he couldn't understand.

The stranger swung his mace one last time, hitting the queen right between the shoulder and the neck. Islanzadi fell without a single noise. She hit the ground and remained there. It was obvious that she was dead, but Eragon's mind couldn't come close to understand what had just happened. This couldn't have happened! It just wasn't possible!

"No!" he screamed, his voice broke and ended in a sob. He wanted to run towards the queen, but found that he couldn't move. His legs just wouldn't obey his mind. The Rider was fixed and all he could do was to stare at the dead queen, unable to understand how it could have come to this.

"No!" he screamed again much more desperate this time. "Please, no."

"No." Eragon whispered one last time, as other warriors were beginning to block his view.

* * *

><p>Eragon awoke with a start. He could feel tears in his eyes and on his cheeks. A sob was tingling the inside of his throat. Taking a deep breath he tried to calm himself down. A quick look at his surrounding told him that he was still in the forest. Orik was sleeping near the fire, snoring loudly, and a few meters away he could see the gleaming blue profile of Saphira. Slowly it dawned on him that it had been only a dream, but that didn't weaken the emotions towards it. Everything had seemed so real. It still scared him, although he knew that it wasn't real.<p>

The Rider stood up and started to walk towards the darkness outside the circle of light the fire cast. He needed to move, to distract himself from the dream and the commotion it had caused inside of his mind.

_Little one. Are you alright?_ Saphira asked concerned. One of her deep blue eyes opened and her gaze focused on him.

_Yes, only a nightmare. Nothing to worry about._ He assured her. _Go back to sleep._

_You too, little one. You need some rest._

_I will, just give me a moment to calm down._ Eragon felt the soothing presence of her mind and could feel himself calming down. Even as she slept, Saphira still offered comfort to him and the Rider felt honored by it. Because of her he never had to feel alone and that was more than he could ever have asked for.

* * *

><p>Well, as always it'd be great if you write a review... please? =)<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Eragon was traveling with Roran and Saphira. It was a pleasant change, considered all the things that had happened during the last few weeks. He wanted to know what his cousin had experienced since they had last seen each other. That seemed to have happen a lifetime ago. So many events had taken place since then, but they were one family and Eragon badly needed a reminder that his family wasn't all evil guys.

So Roran told him about the destruction of Carvahall, the Ra'zac, his relationship with Katrina and all the other things Eragon had missed out on. The Rider couldn't help it he felt responsible for it. Galbatorix was an evil madman, but it was Eragon who had drawn his attention towards the small village in the mountains and the son of a farmer, who had wanted nothing but a normal, simple life with his fiancee.

The Rider tried to apologize, but Roran wouldn't let him.

"It's not your fault," he had said. "Well, maybe, but you couldn't have changed the fact that Saphira hatched for you and neither is it your fault that Galbatorix is a tyrant and a nutcase."

"Thank you," Eragon had answered, feeling a burden being lifted off his shoulders. It would have been horrible if his cousin would have blamed him.

After that they stayed silent for several minutes, each of them caught up in their own thoughts.

As Roran spoke once again, there was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes and a mischievous smile on his lips.

„So tell me, cousin. Do you have a girlfriend? I guess you are a very famous man now?"

That one caught Eragon off guard. He hadn't expected such a question, maybe because it hadn't been that much of a big topic between the two of them during their time in Carvahall.

„Maybe... there is... I don't know... It's complicated," he stuttered. Roran seemed amused and to take Eragon's answer as a „yes".

„Who is she then? Someone I know?" he asked with a smile, that held a glimmer of pride. Eragon opened his mouth to deny it, but Roran interrupted him.

„Let me guess, it's Arya, isn't it?" the older inquired.

Eragon hesitated. Just a few month ago he would have said „yes" and a childish glimmer of sweet joy would have filled his eyes. But as he tried to speak the word now, he found that he couldn't. Now that word would have seemed wrong and his affection for the princess felt more and more like a crush to him, than like real love. The idea scared him.

_Have I really changed that much?_ He wondered.

_You are growing up. Maybe that means you have to part from truths that were true when you were a youngster._ Saphira said.

Eragon heard her, but didn't answer. He didn't feel ready to admit it. His life was messy enough the way it was right now, the Rider saw no need to add things up.

„Eragon?" Roran asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

„No," Eragon heard himself say slowly. „No, it's not Arya."

"Don't want to talk about it?"

"Not really, no. It's complicated and I better don't speak about it until I know what is going on," Eragon said with an apologetic smile.

Roran simply nodded. He didn't seem to feel offended.

* * *

><p>While Eragon was on his way back to the Varden, this time on his own, because he had send Roran, Katrina and Saphira ahead, he also found that he was alone with his thoughts. Now he had more than enough time to ponder. Which wasn't a good thing at all, since Saphira wasn't there to offer comfort or even advise.<p>

Most of the time the Rider managed to push all problematic topics aside, as soon as they turned up, but sometimes they just kept returning until he was sick and tired of trying to avoid them.

One of those topics was his conversation with Roran. It was strange but he still had no clue how to answer his cousin's question. He knew that Islanzadi was in love with him, she had told him that much, still he didn't know if that meant she wanted to be with him, or if she would rather not have those feelings. The Rider felt like slapping himself for not asking that question. It would have made things a lot easier, if he had.

The Rider himself could only say, that he liked the queen, that much he could safely admit. Did he want to be with her? He certainly liked her, why else would the thought of her death disturb him so much. Love on the other hand...

Without really knowing where this thought had come from in the first place, Eragon remembered Angela and the prophecy she had made. Maybe he could ask for some advise. The witch had said that she saw the love for a noble woman in his future, unfortunately that could be both Arya or Islanzadi.

Eragon would have to ask Angela if she could specify, after all it was certainly possible that she could have a closer look into his future, right? He decided to ask her upon his return to the Varden. It was worth a try. She would either help or attempt to kill him for being so presumptuous. He had to know, though, so he had to risk trying.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Well, this is a rather short chapter, I have to admit, but I thought it's better to publish the shorter version of this chapter, than to publish the longer one in a few weeks. What was left out in this chapter will be published in the next chapters.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

Well, hello again. It has taken a bit longer to write this chapter, than I expected. I've been trying my best, but school is rather demanding right now...

Anyway, this is mostly the rest of chapter 6. Those things just had to be mentioned. Next chapter will feature Islanzadi again, I promise.

* * *

><p>As Eragon finally returned to the Varden, after having traveled the last part with Arya, he was more than glad to be reunited with Saphira. It had been the first time he had been separated from her for so long, since she had hatched. After he had performed his duties towards Nasuada and the rest of the Varden's leadership, Eragon and Saphira sat together and shared stories of what they had done while they had traveled on their own.<p>

After they had talked for quite a while, Eragon mentioned the decision he had made, while he had still be traveling without Arya.

_I was considering asking Angela for help. _He told her. Saphira considered this for a moment, seeming very concentrated while she did so. Obviously she was thinking his choice through.

_You think she will do it? _She finally asked.

_Don't know, but she's the only one who possibly could._ Eragon said, knowing that Saphira was also aware that he could get such an answer only from the witch, if he tried to ask anyone.

Saphira wouldn't agree with him, though, instead she said: _Are you aware that she might tell you to question yourself instead of her on this matter?_

Eragon shrugged guiltily. He of course was aware that Saphira had a point there.

_I've asked myself those questions several times already, but the answers I get are always nothing more but a big mess. _he answered sadly.

_In that case you probably should try to ask Angela. Maybe someone who isn't involved has a clearer view on this._ Saphira gave him a soft nudge with her nose to cheer him up. The Rider nodded slowly. He really hoped this would work.

* * *

><p>The next day, Eragon visited Angela to ask her about the prophecy she had made in Teirm. The witch seemed surprised to see him, but didn't comment on it. All she did was greet him polity. At first the Rider was hesitant and nervously glanced around the inside of the small tent, but soon noticed – to his own relieve – that Elva was not there. He would have found himself in a most unfavorable situation if the child had been present. After all he couldn't question the witch, about such trivial matters while the girl whose life Eragon had nearly ruined was still in the same room.<p>

"What did you come here for?" Angela asked. She had of course noticed his searching glance, Eragon was sure of it. The Rider didn't know how to approach the topic, so he settled for plainly stating what he wanted.

"It's about the prophecy... you know, the things you told me back in Teirm."

"Yeah, I remember." Angela answered surprised. "What about it?"

"You told me of a love towards a noble woman..."

Angela simply nodded.

"I was wondering... you know... if you could tell me who she is?" Eragon all but murmured, suddenly not so sure anymore whether it actually was a good idea to ask the witch.

Angela seemed even more surprised by this question.

"I'm sorry, Eragon, I can't," she finally said. The witch's expression had turned blank and there was no emotion in her voice. It seemed almost scary, but Eragon was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice that.

"Oh," he said not able to hide his disappointment completely. On the other hand he couldn't resist asking "Why?"

That was when he finally noticed the change in Angela's behavior as well. There was no way one could miss it anymore.

"Don't get bold, now," she told him coldly. "I'm only not scolding you for being so imperious, because I can tell that you are desperate. Otherwise I would have kicked you out the moment I realized what you were up to."

"I'm sorry," Eragon said abashed, trying to save as much ground as he could. "I didn't want to seem ungrateful. It's just that... you know... things aren't exactly easy right now and... this was the only solution I could come up with."

Angela snorted as she heard those words, although there was no humor in her voice as she spoke.

"Really? Have you ever considered simply asking yourself who she is? Or if you don't know yet, have you tried patience?" Angela asked mockingly.

"It's not that easy," Eragon tried to defend himself. He cast her a helpless glance. Of course he knew that he most likely sounded childish, but he couldn't help himself. Every time he tried to find an answer on his own, he only ended up more confused than before.

"Yes it is, Eragon," she said, more sensitive this time. The witch obviously sensed that he was in an emotional dilemma. "If you don't know the answer yet, be patient and maybe talk to her, get to know her better. There is no use in wasting magic on something that words and thoughts can mend as well."

Angela seemed to understand that Eragon was disappointed by this, so she continued: "Let's have a look at the situation, then. I guess, you already have an idea who she could be?"

"Yes... well, I thought I knew who she was, but now I'm not so sure anymore. Something has happened and now I'm inclined to think that there might be somebody else." Eragon tried to explain without giving away too much information. Islanzadi certainly wouldn't be pleased if he spread the word of her approach towards him.

"So what do you feel about this other person?"

Angela had settled into a comfortable looking armchair near the small fireplace and made a gesture towards another chair to indicate that Eragon was supposed to take a seat as well. Cautiously the Rider did so, while he answered.

"I'm not sure... I mean, I certainly like her... a lot."

"Then why do you try and rush things?" Angela asked, while pulling out some strange looking object from one of her pockets. "You could simply wait and see how your feelings develop."

"She told me she loved me." Eragon answered quietly.

"Oh." Angela said, obviously not expecting a revelation like this. She took a moment to toy with the object in her hand that looked like an amulet, before continuing: "So now you think you are supposed to answer and you don't know what to say?"

Eragon nodded. "Yes."

There was another pause, during which Angela seemed to consider the Rider's options carefully.

"Well... you can after all tell her the truth, that you don't know yet. If she really loves you, she will understand."

Now it was Eragon's turn to make some considerations.

"Hm, that doesn't sound like a good thing to say," he finally said, causing Angela to laugh, although he hadn't meant it to be funny.

"The truth usually doesn't," the witch finally said.

_Maybe you should try, little one. Angela is right, if Islanzadi really loves you it won't matter. After all you aren't rejecting her._ Saphira cut in.

_Yeah, all of this sounds very encouraging, but have you noticed that we have a serious communication problem?_ Eragon answered miserably. In his head he could hear Saphira chuckle, once again without intending to cause such a reaction.

_Still you are saying, "we" when talking about her and you._ The dragon stated.

_Oh._

Angela seemed to have noticed that Eragon was either doing some serious thinking, or was talking to Saphira, because she wasn't interrupting his thoughts. As he finally said something, she smiled.

"I thank you for your advise, Angela, and I'm glad you spared your time on me."

Eragon was about to leave her tent, as he remembered something and turned around again. "Angela, may I ask another question?" he asked hesitantly, fearing that she might not appreciate this approach.

"That depends. Are you planning on being presumptuous again?" the witch answered, although this time with a smile on her face. Eragon took this as a good sign, which gave him enough encouragement to continue.

"No, I was just wondering what that is?" the Rider said, pointing at the mysterious object in her hands. He assumed it was some kind of amulet, but curiosity wouldn't allow him to stick with assuming things. It was like a voice in the back of his mind was telling him that something was wrong with that object.

To Eragon's surprise Angela laughed at his question, seeming highly amused by it.

"Oh, this," she chuckled. "I want to be honest with you, Eragon. It is an amulet altered by a spell to trace bewitchment. It's just some witchcraft's sleight, really."

"Pardon?" Eragon asked baffled, watching her turn the object in her hands.

"Don't worry about it." Angela said, still amused.

"But you said it's supposed to trace bewitchment. Did you think I was bewitched?"

"To be completely honest: yes, I thought you might be under a love spell. As it turns out, though, you are perfectly yourself, no one controls your thought."

"Love spell? Why would you think I was possessed by such magic?" Eragon asked confused.

Angela only laughed and waved it off. "Doesn't matter. As I said, you are fine."

For a few moments Eragon just stood halfway between Angela and the exit, watching the laughing witch bewildered. As he finally noticed that she wasn't going to say more, he took it as his indication to leave.

The Rider was already at the exit of the tent, as he heard Angela say: "Keep in mind what I told you."

"I will, thank you," he answered honestly.

As he stood outside again, Eragon took a moment to organize his thoughts. He couldn't quite decide whether or not he was more confused than before, now. Talking to Angela had certainly helped to figure some things out, but on the other hand she had also given him new stuff to think about.


	8. Chapter 8

Several month had passed, since Eragon had talked to Angela. In the meantime quite a lot of things had happened. Not only had several battles taken place, Eragon had also visited the dwarfs and Saphira had fixed Isidar Mithrim. Now that Orik was king of the dwarfs, the Rider felt closer to them than before. The new king was a good friend, maybe even like a brother to him. It felt like Eragon had finally been able to gather a bit of family around him again, which felt quite good, if one ignored the fact that his brother and his father were part of The Forsworn.

A few days ago Saphira and her Rider had arrived in Du Weldenvarden and they had somehow fallen back into their usual routine instantly. They would fly over to Oromis and Glaedr every morning and study with them until the sun set, or even beyond that time. There were many new things they had to learn, but there seemed to be not nearly enough time to do so. Nevertheless the four of them tried their best to achieve as much progress as possible in such a short time.

* * *

><p>It was a sunny morning, the countless birds were singing in the trees and Eragon sat outside Oromis' hut, reading some ancient texts. The Rider was so caught up in his studies that he failed to notice the elf approaching him.<p>

Oromis silently settled down next to Eragon, patiently waiting for his student to notice him. Just as he had finished reading, the Rider became aware of the other's presence. It startled him a bit to notice that the elf could sneak up on him so easily.

"I have not asked you, before you left Ellesmera, but I think I should have," Oromis suddenly said, catching Eragon off guard. "Has Islanzadi approached you again?"

The younger Rider was not sure how to answer this question properly. Put that way, it had sounded like Islanzadi had made an unwanted attempt to... do something inappropriate, but that certainly wasn't the case. Eragon hesitated for several seconds, before he tried to form a honest answer.

"Not really... I mean, not as you might think," the boy stammered.

"What happened?" Oromis asked suspiciously. His expression had darkened slightly.

Eragon resisted the urge to take a step backwards. There was nothing he had done wrong, after all. "I don't think I should talk about it."

Silence followed that comment and Eragon wasn't sure what he should expect next. Oromis seemed to contemplate his students words, but his face offered no clue of what he was thinking. The tension was getting stronger with every passing second and Eragon felt the urge to explain himself rise up within him. Just before the boy opened his mouth, Oromis spoke again.

"If you think so, but you should keep in mind, that she might just be playing games with you, after all." Oromis sounded deadly serious and deeply concerned at the same time. Eragon felt touched by the older Rider's worry and wanted to thank him for it, but he had to set a few things straight first.

"No, I doubt that is the case," Eragon said carefully, unsure how much information he could give away. "Something is going on, that's true, but I doubt that she tries to play a game with me. It's a lot more complicated, I guess."

Oromis looked at his student, like he wasn't sure he could believe the boy's words. "If you think so," he finally said, still not sounding very convinced.

"Yes, I think so," Eragon said emphatically. "I want to thank you nevertheless. I'm very grateful for your concern, because I know that very few people would worry about me as a person, not as a symbol."

Oromis smiled warmly. "Of course, Eragon. But there are a few things you should know, before you return to the Varden."

And Eragon got to know a few things, more than a few things, actually. Some of them were very helpful, like the new spells and the facts about dragons he had learned, but others were... different. The Rider learned that his father wasn't Morzan, but Brom. That was good news, but still it made Eragon wonder why Brom had never told him. The way it was right now, he had learned his fathers true identity, just to discover that he was dead as well. It was sad, but the boy comforted himself with the knowledge, that he had spent time with his father, after all.

* * *

><p>As the time to leave Ellesmera once again approached, Eragon felt more at peace with himself, than he had in a long time. Also he had come to a conclusion, during his meditations in the forest. All those people he had already lost, Brom, Garrow, his mother, Murtagh in a way... there were already enough of them and he had decided to set things straight with the people who cared for him, as long as he still had the chance to.<p>

Of course that would also include Islanzadi, which would be the most challenging part of his plan, but he would try nevertheless. The queen would even be the first one on his list, since he already was in Du Weldenvarden. That was most likely the closest he would get to her current location in the near future, anyway. It was only logical to use the given opportunity to visit Islanzadi.

Still the Rider would have to contact her in advance, if he didn't want to cause a big mess by appearing amongst the elvish army without a warning. It would raise questions he couldn't answer and didn't want to answer either. The safest solution would be to meet her in secret, but that required some careful preparations.

After finally convincing Saphira that it actually was a good idea to visit the queen, although they were supposed to return to the Varden right away, they had been discussing his options. Several possibilities had been devised, only to be discarded again.

In the end they had settled for using the _Draumr kópa_, to contact Islanzadi. As soon as they left the magic circle that blocked magical infiltration, Eragon would work the spell. The Rider only hoped she would want to speak to him at all. There was no way for him to tell how she would react, she was a riddle to him after all.

But he had contacted her like this before, when he had searched for a place he could send Sloan to, so he knew that it could work. Although he had to admit, that their talk back then had been rather awkward. They both had tried to act as professional as they could, not knowing how to deal with each other on a personal basis.

Eragon had wanted to ask her about their last meeting, but he kept saving the topic during the conversation until it had been too late. The time just hadn't seemed right, while he had so many other things to worry about. Still in the back of his mind he knew, that he simply hadn't been brave enough to ask. The thought bugged him a bit, but Eragon wanted to use his second chance to do so. Maybe meeting her in person would make it easier...?

By the end of the day, they had left the inner circle of Du Weldenvarden. Saphira and Eragon decided to use the first opportunity they were given to come down and take a short break. While the Rider prepared everything for the spell he was about to perform, the dragon went on the hunt for her dinner.

Saphira still hadn't returned, as Eragon lifted his hand over the small pond of water he had summoned and recited the spell. Slowly the image of Islanzadi drifted into vision. She sat at a provisional desk and her surrounding looked like the inside of a tent. Instantly the queen noticed him.

"Eragon," she recognized his presence surprised.

Involuntarily a warm shiver ran down his spine, as their eyes met. It really had been a long time since he had last seen her and the realization that he had actually missed her, hit him harder than he had expected it to.

The Rider considered whether he should tell her what he wanted to suggest right away, or whether it was better to start with the common pleasantries. At last he decided to be as polite as he could be and intoned the first part of the elvish greeting. He couldn't come up with a better approach, anyway.

The queen answered, although she seemed a bit irritated by it. Briefly the Rider wondered what she was thinking, whether she was as pleased to see him, as he was to see her, or whether she was annoyed by him contacting her.

After Eragon had spoken the last part of the greeting, Islanzadi asked: "Why are you contacting me, Eragon?"

Eragon could tell, that he should better get to the point, because the queen didn't seem to be in the mood for small talk. Maybe that was a bad sign?

He took a deep breath to calm himself down, before he spoke.

"I think we need to talk and I'd like to meet you, in person I mean."

Islanzadi's brows furrowed slightly as she heard those words. "You know, this might not be the best of all times," she said. "We are preparing for war, furthermore we are already involved into the first few fights."

Eragon knew that of course, but he had to try nevertheless. "Yeah, I know, but I doubt that there will be a better opportunity in close reach. I have just left Ellesmera and I thought since I'm that close already I could as well risk the small detour and pay you a visit."

For a moment it seemed, as if Islanzadi was going to call him stupid or even crazy, but she stayed silent. Instead she considered his words carefully. During the resulting silence Eragon grew more and more nervous, fearing that she might decide differently after all. The tension got less bearable with every passing second, until the Rider started to think that he might be content with every outcome, if only the silence was broken by it.

As the queen finally spoke, Eragon felt like a burden was lifted off him. "If that's really what you want, I would be delighted to meet you again."

Eragon couldn't help it, as he heard those words, a happy smile grew on his face. He really looked forward to meeting her again.

"I'll meet you soon, then," he grinned.


	9. Chapter 9

They had agreed to meet outside of the camp of the elves somewhere in the depth of the forest, where no human dared to show up.

Eragon was apparently early, because Islanzadi was nowhere to be seen, as he arrived. So he just settled for sitting down near the small pond, which was rimmed by bare, round stones. The moon reflected in the clear water and made the surrounding turn a slight shade of silver. Outside the small clearing everything was dark and even with his sharp elvish senses Eragon could only make out brighter and darker shades of gray. Saphira had found herself enough space to curl up into a ball of scales and wait. They had agreed that the dragon would not be present while Eragon talked to Islanzadi. It would not be fair to gang up again, while Islanzadi was on her own, with no one to be on her side.

Eragon was growing increasingly nervous while the first hour passed without any sign of the queen. Of course they had agreed only to meet tonight, not a specific hour, because they both knew, that it would be impossible to arrive just on time. Still the Rider began to worry, as the night progressed and he was still waiting. Also he was nervous because of the talk that lay ahead of him. He would be on his own, Saphira would not be there to help him and he still wasn't sure how to voice the things he wanted to say. This talk had to end in a good way, Eragon had to make sure it would, because there would be little opportunity for a second chance. If it ended in a fight or a big misunderstanding again, there would be no time to fix it.

Month had passed since they last talked to each other in person and now that the war had started in earnest who knew if in a few month there would still be room for such trivialities as relationships? If Galbatorix won this war... No, Eragon refused to think of it. Not now, he told himself, there was enough time to think of the war, when he was in the front-rows of battle again.

* * *

><p>As Islanzadi finally arrived at the clearing, Eragon experienced a strange feeling. On the one hand he was relieved that nothing had happened to her, but on the other hand he felt a knot in his stomach because there was no going back now. Now he had to go through with his plan and all he could do was hope that the outcome would be a good one.<p>

Nevertheless he smiled happily and met her halfway. They stood in front of each other awkwardly, without really knowing what the best way to greet one another would be. Awkward seemed to be a constant factor in their current relationship.

So Eragon greeted Islanzadi in the most polite way he could think of and after the queen and Saphira had acknowledged each other's presence as well, which had been a rather awkward moment, Eragon turned towards the dragon.

_I'll leave you two alone now. _Saphira said, while she already unfolded her wings. _You obviously need to talk._

And with that the dragon was gone. Eragon had wanted to form an answer, but she was already gone, before he could think of something to say.

* * *

><p>Islanzadi and Eragon had settled down near the small pond. The Rider had found a blanket in his saddlebags and unfolded it on the ground, so they would not have to sit on the moist grass.<p>

Eragon had noticed that the queen was wearing neither her golden armor nor one of her perfect tailor-made dresses, but a plain traveler's outfit instead. Against all odds it made her look no less beautiful. It was a different kind of beauty, though, less glamorous and more mysterious.

They sat in silence for a long while, none of them knowing what to say. Of course it would be easy to simply break the silence, but once it was broken they would have to continue speaking until they reached the sore point. Neither of them wanted to be the one to start that conversation.

It was Eragon who finally broke the silence, even though reluctantly. He felt that he should be the one to speak first, since he had insisted on meeting her tonight.

"I'm so sorry. I should not have let you run away..." he nearly mumbled, feeling his face turn red. He hated it, because it reminded him of how young and inexperienced he was. So he went on, trying to make his voice sound firmer than before: "The truth is, that I simply don't know how I feel about you."

Instantly the Rider saw that the queen was getting this wrong and so hurriedly continued: "I certainly like you a lot and I would really like to get to know you better, but that is exactly the point... you see, I know so very little about you and I think that you don't know that much about me, either... and I guess that's the problem."

Islanzadi had listened carefully to the things he said and seemed to consider his words. Another pause followed, during which Eragon grew nervous again. He had long since stopped telling himself that he didn't care about what she thought about him. It did matter whether they were getting along or not and it did matter what her answer to his explanation would be.

"Maybe you are right," Islanzadi said hesitantly, looking at Eragon, but at the same time seeming to focus on some point beside or behind him. "Although that is not a problem that can not be solved."

Now it was Eragon's turn to consider, though he did not have to contemplate her words for long. She was right. Of course, she was right. They could get to know each other better. There was not much time to do so, but one didn't need to know someone else' whole life to know whether that person appealed to one or not.

"You're right," he voiced his thoughts. "So... what do we do now?" Eragon asked, because he had no clue how to continue. He was moving on foreign ground and he knew that she probably had a lot more experience concerning such situations.

"We talk," Islanzadi answered simply, with a warm smile on her face.

And that's what they did. They sat near the pond for a long time, several hours at least, but for Eragon time flew by like the hours were merely seconds in disguise.

All sorts of things were mentioned, in no specific order though. Islanzadi told him several stories about the time before she became the queen of the elves. Apparently she had spent quite a while traveling through Du Weldenvarden, enjoying the freedom and closeness to nature. Eragon was surprised by this, because he had not expected her to have a past like that. On the other hand he also didn't know what he had expected instead.

In return Eragon told her a few stories about his own past, some were about his childhood in Carvahall but most were about his time with Saphira. For some reason he wanted her to know, to understand what it was like to be a Rider. This was what had defined him the most and if she wanted to know him, that was what she had to know about.

It was a strange feeling to give away such private information about himself, but she gave him as much in return. If he would have been asked to explain it, he would not have called it awkward, or embarrassing, it was merely new to him. Still he could not tell whether he liked it or not, time would have to tell.

There was one thing Islanzadi didn't mention, though. Considering all the things she told him about it was strange that she never mentioned her dead husband.

"What was it like... to loose your husband?" Eragon asked involuntarily. The moment those words left his lips he felt like slapping himself. Why had he said such a stupid thing?! How could he be so stupid and ask something that would most likely kill the mood?! The question had simply slipped from the back of his mind to his tongue, apparently he had wanted to know. Damn his mind for tricking him!

Islanzadi withdraw a bit, her expression got serious, but she answered nevertheless. "Painful," she said with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, I should not have asked that," the Rider hurriedly tried to apologize.

"It's alright, Eragon. Those things happened a long time ago and although it still hurts, it does not bring me down anymore. You surely know that life goes on and that if you don't go with it, you will be left behind."

Eragon nodded slowly. He knew.

A moment of silence followed, during which they silently agreed to let the topic fade away, so that they could go on. But there was nothing to talk about anymore. They had talked about enough things by now. Further words were unnecessary. Instead they both leaned in, like a silent signal was given. It was a careful approach, unlike their previous ones.

And then they were kissing and this time it wasn't awkward or embarrassing or anything. It was just them and the sweet feeling of being with someone, feeling for someone in a not at all platonic way.

Eragon would have liked to describe this experience with the most suitable, poetic words, but the only words that came to his mind were: _This is so awesome!_ Apparently that was the disadvantage of being an inexperienced youngster.

As the kiss ended, there was no running. Eragon had half expected the situation to end in a sudden mess, that did not happen though. Instead things went on and their first kiss, that did not leave them both confused or shocked, followed. And another.

Eragon felt Islanzadi's hand travel across his back, probably searching for the scar Durza had left there. Although she would not be able to find it, the Rider didn't tell her because he liked the way her touch send shivers up and down his spine. He wanted to touch her too, but was afraid to, since he had no clue which would be the right place.

In the end he settled for carefully resting a hand on her upper arm letting it travel up to her shoulder and down her spine, as he noticed that she was not going to complain about it or push him away, or do any of the other things he had feared she would do.

They went on like this for a while, kissing and carefully touching each other, exploring. But the moment came in which Islanzadi withdrew just enough to be able to look Eragon in the eyes. Instantly the Rider feared that he had done something wrong, but that didn't seem to be the case. She did not tell him off, all she did was look at him.

There was a silent question in Islanzadi's eyes and Eragon needed quite a while to understand what it meant. As he finally got it, he felt a small wave of fear wash over him. Oh, how he hated to be at the short end of this, concerning experience and all. Eragon battled down the fear and concentrated on the warm, almost burning excitement instead.

Slowly, nearly carefully he nodded, giving the situation the permission to continue on it's way. And that's what it did.

This was when Eragon noticed that they were not going to stop tonight...

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Well, I'm really curious what you think about this chapter.

This is the furthest I can take this chapter without having to change the rating. And I'm not going to change the rating. Sorry ;-)


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:**

Hey, first off I want to say, that I'm very sorry that it took me so long to finish this chapter... again! School was quite a bother and then... well, also I wasn't quite sure what this chapter was supposed to look like. There were several ideas I had for it, but in the end I decided for this version. I hope you think I made the right choice.

Oh and I answered quite a few reviews below the text. Some of you gave me quite a bit to think about, so I wanted to explain them... hopefully I managed to. ;-) If you don't want to read that, feel free to ignore it.

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

Eragon woke up and instantly he knew that this morning was unlike any other morning he had ever woken up to. Well, to be honest it wasn't morning just yet, beause the sun had not risen and the forest was still dark, but the black shadows were already turning a dark shade of blue. His point remained the same nevertheless, he had never woken up quite like this before. There was another body next to his, a warm, soft body. The temporary confusion changed to a happy grin in less than a second as he remembered the previous night.

There were two choices Eragon had right now. The first was to get up and face the day, the other was to remain where he was and enjoy the moment a bit longer. He decided for the second option. What use was there in letting this situation end sooner than needed? The moments of peace and utter happiness he was offered were already too rare, so he should not willingly reduce their number further.

Carefully Eragon turned his head a bit, so that he could look at Islanzadi, but her face was hidden from him. The queen's long dark hair had slightly fallen into her face, just enough to make it impossible for him to see her eyes. Of course he was aware, that they were most likely open, since all elves slept like that, but nevertheless he would have liked to see it. Maybe he could see her face, if he sat up, but that would surely wake her up and that would mean to end the situation. No, he was far too happy and content with this moment.

Still smiling, because this seemed to be the best way to react to this completely uncommon situation, Eragon drifted back to sleep, more peaceful than he had in a very long time.

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><p>As Eragon woke up for the second time this morning, Islanzadi was nowhere to be seen. Confused and also a bit alarmed the Rider got up and dressed. On instinct he reached for his sword, which lay nearby. It was only then that he noticed, that the queen's sword and her clothes were gone as well. If he had not remembered the previous night, he could have thought that she had not been there at all. For a moment he considered whether something had happened to her, but the Rider dismissed that idea quickly. He found himself to be unharmed, which ruled out all possibilities in which the queen could have been harmed. Why should he still be here if something had happened to her? How should he not have noticed?<p>

So Eragon relaxed slightly and fastened his sword at his belt, instead of drawing it. Still he was kinda worried by the lack of Islanzadi's presence. Where had she gone and why? He decided to wait and to have faith that she had not changed her mind and left him behind. She was not the kind of person who would do such a thing, he was sure of it.

As the time passed, Eragon found it increasingly difficult to push his worries and doubts aside. He didn't want to think that she had left him behind, but that only left the possibility that indeed something had happened to her, which was even more of a bad of a thing to consider. Maybe he should try to get in contact with Saphira, although she was so far away from him, that he could only feel her presence lingering in the back of his mind. Possibly the Rider couldn't reach the dragon if so much distance lay between them. Even if he could contact her, it would take Saphira far too long to make her way back to him.

So Eragon was already about to go and look for Islanzadi on his own, as she suddenly appeared at the rim of the clearing. It happened so quickly and silently, that the Rider nearly didn't notice it at all. He had looked around one last time, before he was about to leave, only to notice her standing between the trees ahead of him. The expression on her face implied that she had been watching him, for there was a small but sincere smile lingering on her face.

"There is a creek nearby," the queen said, as she saw the silent question and relieve in his eyes. Still Eragon couldn't resist taking a closer look, to check whether she was indeed unharmed. While he did so the Rider tried to hide his concern, although she was surely able to see his eyes moving, as he scant her for inquiries from the distance. Islanzadi was fully dressed in her ranger's clothes again and her hair was tugged behind her ears. She looked incredibly beautiful like this. It seemed as if she had left the queen she was behind in the camp and had brought whoever she had been before that back to life. This was what Eragon had always imagined elves to be like, beautiful, independent and strong creatures and it made him want to spent the rest of eternity in her company. On the other hand that thought scared him, because it made him feel vulnerable. How was he supposed to know what she thought of him? What could she see in him that could even come close to equal the amazing things he saw in her? It was downright scary to think about it, so he quickly pushed that thought aside.

Even if he could not understand what she saw in him, or maybe especially because of that, Eragon felt like the luckiest person in the world, for right now she was here with him and nobody could take that away. It made him incredibly happy and brought an idiotic smile to his face.

"Oh," Eragon finally said, not really knowing what to say. He felt himself blushing slightly as he realised how caught up in his own thoughts he had been. Still he was aware that this would not be enough, so he added: "Good morning," smiling almost shyly.

"Good morning to you too," Islanzadi answered, with a honest smile on her face. Maybe she was amused by his unsureness? Eragon didn't care though, he couldn't help it, he smiled back at her.

Only a moment later Islanzadi moved towards him, stopping in an appropriate distance, so that she could easily look at his face. Eragon noticed that he must have grown since he had first seen her, because it seemed that he was a quite a bit taller than her and he didn't remember it to be like that. Strange that he noticed this right now.

A few seconds passed during which nobody said a word, but they were both still smiling happily.

"Well, I don't know what to say," Eragon said, considering it the best to be completely honest.

"Say whatever is on your mind," Islanzadi advised. The expression on her face changed although so slightly that it was barely noticeable, to something that could be worry.

Eragon hesitated for a tiny moment, hoping that she would get his meaning. It was dangerous but he felt like she would understand. She had encouraged him to act on what he was thinking and the inside of his head equaled a fuzzy ball of happiness at the moment.

"Marry me," Eragon said, knowing that elves didn't marry and not being serious anyway. Still he rapidly grew nervous while he waited for her reaction. Hopefully she understood his idea of humor...

Islanzadi laughed amused and Eragon felt a wave of relieve wash over him. He had feared that she would take this seriously, thankfully he noticed that she was not. This situation was way too light-hearted to make such a suggestion in earnest.

"Sure," the queen laughed. "End the war and I'll consider it."

Eragon forced himself to think of an answer, while all he wanted to do was listen to her beautiful laughter, a sound he had never heard before.

"Hm, those are pretty tough conditions..." he finally said, faking to be considering her words. "... not sure that's worth it."

Islanzadi's smile grew a bit brighter and she gave him a light kiss on the lips, catching him slightly off guard. "Well, you are the one who asked."

And then they were laughing again. Eragon had never felt so much like an elf before. Of course he wasn't one, but this kind of light-hearted humor was something he had only experienced amongst the elves. It was...

_For everyone's sake! Could the two of you please behave like grown-ups?!_ Saphira interfered. As much as he tried, Eragon was not able to tell how long the dragon had already been present. He had neither noticed her physical arrival nor her presence growing in his mind.

Islanzadi must have heard the dragon's words too, because he had moved slightly backwards, away from Eragon. The Rider wanted to tell her that Saphira wasn't actually angry, but couldn't find the right words. He was still far too surprised by the sudden appearance the dragon had made.

_Saphira,_ Eragon started reluctantly. _Could you give us a little bit more time?_ He didn't want to sent Saphira away, but at the moment he felt that there were quite a few things that had yet to be said and he thought that they needed solitude to be said.

_We have to leave now, Eragon. I understand that you want to spent time with her, but there is no time. You have spent too much of it by coming here in the first place anyway._ Saphira said insistently, although her voice was gentle and the Rider understood that she was only doing what had to be done even though she didn't like it any more than he did.

_Please? Just a minute._ Eragon said, sounding more pleading than he had intended to.

Saphira gave the mental equivalent of a resigning sigh. _Alright, I'll get myself some breakfast, but when I return we'll leave._

_Thank you._ Eragon smiled.

As Saphira spread her wings to fly away once again, he turned back to Islanzadi, not knowing how to restore the previous mood.

"Saphira is right," the queen suddenly said, catching the Rider off guard. "We should return to our duties. There is no time to waste, even if this is a good way to waste time."

Eragon gave her a confused look, although he felt a smile and a faint blush rise to his face as he heard those words. "You've heard what Saphira?"

Islanzadi gave Eragon a look that could he interpreted as: No, she had not heard the dragon, but it was quite obvious what Saphira had said.

A short silence followed, while neither of them quite knew what to say. There was suddenly so very little time to talk, but that did not lower the number of things that needed or were wanted to be said. So obviously some of them were about to be left unspoken, the only problem was to decide which.

"I should go back to the camp. And I'm sure you have places to be, too," Islanzadi finally said, taking a step backwards to put distance between herself and the Rider. So it was settled, nothing would be said, but Eragon tried to comfort himself with the thought that they knew without having to speak about it, at least he hoped so.

"But... can't we just stay here for a bit longer?" Eragon asked gently with the hint of a pleading look in his eyes. Of course he knew that he had duties and that people were relying on him, but... "I don't want to leave you just yet."

Islanzadi gave a sad smile and kissed the tip of his nose, which left Eragon wishing for a real kiss. "I don't want to leave either, but there are duties waiting for us. Remember that duty comes first and these is far too important to simply abondon them. You know that."

"Yeah, it's just..." Eragon started, but didn't know how to voice his thoughts and instead hoped that she understood nevertheless. Islanzadi nodded slowly.

"We'll meet again and we'll both be unharmed when we do. Promise it!" Islanzadi requested.

"I promise," Eragon said, feeling encouraged by the thought. "Promise?"

"Promise," she answered, smiling back at him.

That was the moment Saphira chose to return. The dragon silently landed several meters away from Eragon and Islanzadi, but her presence implied that the time to talk was over.

"Well, so it's goodbye now, until we meet again," the Rider said with a sigh and quietly added: "hopefully soon."

"I'll meet you in Urubaen," Islanzadi said with both an encouraging smile and a look of determination on her face. As they said this temporary farewell, there was no kiss. This time there was only a look into each others' eyes that probably told more than any physical action could have. The unshared kiss was a symbol for their promise to meet again, healthy or at least still alive, just as the unspoken words between them were.

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to leave if he didn't do it right now, Eragon turned around and walked towards Saphira.

Eragon climbed onto Saphira's back, all the while not looking away from Islanzadi, who stood at the rim of the clearing. He didn't want to leave and the odd feeling in his chest wasn't helping at all. It was something he had never felt before in his whole life, a strange mix of happiness and sadness. The closest thing to compare it to might be, when you're crying because you are so happy that laughing just isn't enough. Still it was kinda different.

_You'll see her again_. Saphira tried to reassure him. Giving him a mental nudge.

_I know. That's the only reason I'm able to leave right now at all._ Eragon answered and meant it.

Saphira gave a disapproving growl, but said nothing.

As the dragon lifted herself into the air, Eragon watched Islanzadi, who once again made her way towards the trees, disappearing in the long shadows the plants cast in the light of the early morning.

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><p><strong>Rest of Author's Note:<strong>

Well, first off a big „thank you" to everyone who left a review for the previous chapter. I didn't expect that much feedback and I'm so glad you like this story! It's amazing how much constructive feedback I get here, that's so cool!

**To Evatross**: Nope, she surely won't be. =)

**To :** Thanks. I'm glad you agree with my decision, wasn't so sure whether my decision would be appreciated...

**To Key of Chaos:** Well, I don't think Islanzadi would normally be someone to go all the way that quickly. In fact I believe she would rather be one to need years of slow approaching. But since they are at war after all, I figured that there is no time for such things. If I had a lover whom I know would be facing the most horrible villain I know of in the near future, and I've already lost a loved one because of said enemy... well, I think she would want to use the time they are given, 'cause who knows whether he'll return from battle. The same goes for her actually, since she's leading an army into battle as well. Sorry, for the long answer =/ I just got your point and couldn't resist... ;-)

**To Obliterator1519:** Hey, I'm glad this story caught you. ;-)

**To Guest: **Oh, no offense taken. =) I see your point. (after hugging my knees and whispering „so not what I intended to imply" ;-) )

Well, all I can say is that I always thought of the whole Eragon and Arya thing to be some kind of crush and not really love especially because he is still quite young and inexperienced as he first met her. I kinda hope that I've shown that he is not really willingly shifting his feelings, but is drifting into something instead.

Also as I read „Eragon" again and reached Angela's prophecy, I was like: _Wouldn't it be funny if the woman she tells him about is not Arya, but Islanzadi? _And this is the outcome. I wasn't really considering that Islanzadi is in fact Arya's mother... I just liked her as a character and thought: Why not?


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Eragon and Saphira had traveled back towards the Varden as fast as they could. They had only allowed themselves short breaks to rest and get enough sleep to keep the growing exhaustion at bay. They both knew that they were going to be late, but Eragon couldn't bring himself to care. After all he had never stood a chance to be on time. He had been born into an upcoming war and with his training not nearly finished and himself being barely an adult, he was already late. What difference made one day?

As Eragon and Saphira came within sight of Feinster, the Rider had to reconsider. Apparently one day mattered in this case.

Eragon felt like they had flown right into a storm. The weather was just fine around the city of Feinster, but the battle was already raging around and apparently within the city. In front of the city walls the army of the Varden was located, but it didn't stop there. The gates had been opened, even though Eragon couldn't see by whom, and the first rebels were already storming into the city.

Now he regretted that they had allowed themselves longer breaks, for the exhaustion of the journey was lingering around him and although he wasn't tired he knew that he wasn't in the best condition to fly into battle. Still what choice did he have? He couldn't abandon the Varden and he wouldn't even if he could.

Still it took him several moments to achieve a good overview of the situation. Especially within the city it was hard to tell which warrior belonged to which side and who was merely a citizen on the run from the battle. In a maze of streets and alleyways things tended to become a mess quite fast. So Eragon concentrated on the area around the gates in order to find the main part of the Varden army.

Soon he spotted Arya and a group of elven magicians near the gates and assumed that they had opened them for the approaching Varden. Right now, though, they seemed to be in a bad position, for they were surrounded by soldiers who outnumbered them more than enough to be a threat. Saphira must have seen it too, because she was already making her way down towards them even before the Rider could mention it.

That was how Eragon entered the battle of Feinster, knowing that he would have to exit it in victory or not at all. He only hoped that Murtagh would not be present, even though he might now stand a better chance against his half-brother than he had in their first duel. Killing a member of his family – even if this particular member had sided with the enemy - was not very high on his to-do-list.

Several things must have happened after that, for the battle went on for hours, but Eragon could later only remember vague outlines of them. He was aware that he had been in contact with Gleadr and Oromis through the Eldunari and had therefore learned that Murtagh was in Gil'ead, but also that Galbatorix was apparently planning to become invincible by some magic nobody knew about yet. Even though he had known that Galbatorix was relying on dark and unknown magic, it didn't help the uncomfortable feeling in Eragon's stomach at the thought of it. After all he would have to face the mad king in the end.

The realization of Murtagh's current location didn't help his mood either. If his half-brother was in Gil'ead then he was also dangerously close to Islanzadi and the fact that the other Rider was already a regicide... Eragon could only hope that the presence of Oromis would keep her from his attention. Oromis certainly knew how to face another Rider, right?

Another fact he remembered was that Arya had killed a Shade much later that day, when the battle had already been going on for hours. Arya, Eragon and several other elves had invaded the stronghold, where they had found out that some human wizards were about to successfully create a Shade.

Much later - maybe it was the next morning? - Eragon had heard the Varden refer to Arya as Shadeslayer, but at the moment it seemed to happen far away. Everything seemed to take place in another world right now.

It all lingered beneath the shadow of a great, all consuming sadness, which resulted only partly from Eragon's own emotions. The Eldunari, he was carrying with him did not create a connection anymore, the only thing it brought him when Feinster was finally taken, was a link to a grieving soul. Gleadr's pain was seeping through him, like the young Rider was an open vessel for it. The almost roaring grief mixed with his own and left Eragon with a feeling of all consuming darkness lingering all around him. It was becoming harder to breath, as the weight on his heart grew heavier.

Despite the existence of several tasks they still had to perform, Eragon and Saphira had escaped the company of the Varden. While the weight of Gleadr's grief rested upon them, they couldn't hope to stand a chance at performing any official task and Eragon didn't want his comrades-in-arms to see him in such a state. His whole frame was shaking as he tried to push those emotions aside, or at least close himself off from Gleadr, but neither attempt provided any considerable results.

Eragon was trapped beneath the waves of emotional pain that came from the old dragon's soul within the Eldunari and rolled over him. He knew that Saphira felt it too, for he could sense her soul drifting out of reach in an attempt to close herself off, while she was shivering as well. Even the dragon's mighty wings, although neatly folded, were slightly shaking.

Eragon tried to concentrate on something else, any other emotion, instead. With every passing moment he felt the grief become less of an invasion and became more and more his own. The pain and sadness Eragon himself felt because of the death of his mentor, a man that had become a father figure to him, resonated to the soul deep grief and roaring pain Gleadr was unknowingly sending his way.

Eragon knew that he had felt utter happiness not long ago, but the memory seemed far away now and he wondered how he had managed to feel it anyway. All he felt right now was emotional pain and the fact that it was only partly his own only made it worse. He was helpless in this matter, there was no comfort he could offer Gleadr, no words to soothe his pain.

Just as Eragon thought he couldn't take the emotional pain any longer, Gleadr seemed to notice his presence and closed himself off to the surrounding souls. His own spirit becoming nothing more than a faint whisper of bottomless sadness and grief in the distance.

For a moment Eragon felt relief flood over him as he could breath again, but as he realized what he was thinking he felt disgusted. Even though he did no longer have to experience it, the grief Glaedr felt had not lessened a bit.

It was in that moment that he finally understood what a huge sacrifice Gleadr had made. He had trapped himself in existence without the person he loved most of all, just to continue being useful for the living people. Eragon found himself silently begging that Saphira would never do such a thing. No, he couldn't live without her, he knew he wouldn't stand the pain it would cause, and as far as he could help it he wouldn't want her to go through it either. They were one, there was no way one of them could exist without the other anymore and he knew that Saphira felt the same.

* * *

><p>That evening Islanzadi contacted Eragon by using the <em>Draumr kopa<em>, which surprised the young Rider not negligible. He had not expected her to contact him at all, considered that she must be quite busy. The queen looked as if she had just returned from battlefield – which she most likely had – and there was a certain sadness in her eyes which had not been there before. Nevertheless she didn't mention the death of Oromis and Gleadr at first.

They spent the first few minutes of their talk, inquiring each other's well-being. It took Eragon considerably more time to convince her of his lack of injuries than it took her to convince him. Despite the slightly torn state of her armor, she still looked powerful and distant, like nothing in the world could actually hurt her. Eragon on the other hand looked pale, his eyes were a bit red, from both withheld tears and the lack of sleep, and he was still partly covered in dirt and blood, although he had tried to remove it.

As Islanzadi was finally convinced that he was alright, she told Eragon about the battle she had just returned from, though she neglected the part of Oromis' death. Instead the queen told him that Gil'ead had fallen into the hands of the elves. A fact that gave Eragon hope. They were still stepping into the right direction, despite the adversity they had to face and their losses. And right now the young Rider was more determined than ever to take Urubaen, for it would give him the chance to get revenge for all the people he had already lost because of Galbatorix and his henchmen.

It was Eragon who finally mentioned the death of Oromis and Gleadr. From then on the mood dropped to an uncomfortable level. They were both mourning the loss, although Eragon suspected that Islanzadi was equally bothered by the loss of a symbol as she was saddened by the death of the person.

„How did you find out about their death?" Islanzadi finally asked and so Eragon explained the link the Eldunari had created. Still he didn't stop there. Once he had started talking about it, he found that he couldn't stop, so he went on and also told her about the emotional link it had formed. He couldn't help himself on this matter, he had to tell someone and since he had explained the connection between a Rider and his dragon to her she was the most likely person to understand. Also, or even more importantly, Eragon felt closer to her than to anyone - except for Saphira of course.

As Eragon described what he had experienced, Islanzadi listened closely to what he told her and the look on her face was one of compassion.

„They have made such a huge sacrifice," Eragon nearly sobbed, trying to steady his voice but knew that he was failing. Speaking about it apparently only made it more real. „Both Gleadr and Brom. They have pushed through this incomprehensible pain just to spare others from the tyranny of Galbatorix and his sort. They are heroes, more than anyone can possibly understand."

Islanzadi nodded slowly. Although Eragon had tried to explain the bond between a Rider and a dragon to her, she had no first-hand experience. It was also possible that she was unsure what Eragon wanted to get at here.

„I share your grief, Eragon. Oromis was..." she trailed off, as if she wasn't sure what to say.

„You don't understand," Eragon murmured. „I could feel Gleadr's pain. I could feel his grief and it almost tore me apart. What he is going through is horrible and I have seen nothing but a glimpse of it."

Islanzadi remained silent this time. The expression on her face told that she wanted nothing more than to reach through the mirror and comfort him, as his shoulders shook at the memory of it. He didn't want to seem so weak, but there was little he could do about it.

„I can not help him. All I can do is hope that he won't go insane and that his pain will lessen, but that hope seems so vain."

Eragon looked up again and met Islanzadi's gaze, there was the faint shine of unshed tears in her eyes as she listened and as she spoke there was a tiny shakiness in her voice.

„The pain will lessen, although things will never be the same again. Gleadr knew what he was getting himself into and he is strong, Eragon. We have to have faith in him. I'm sure Gleadr will make it through this, though it might need some time," Islanzadi sounded very reassuring, which was balm for Eragon's tormented soul. He felt himself calm a bit and gave her a weak half-smile.

„I do have faith in him. It's just... that pain he feels... it's beyond description, it's like a black hole has been opened and is now mercilessly pulling everything lively inside to destroy it. I..." Eragon swallowed hard. „I don't think I could go through that."

The Rider averted his gaze shamefully. He felt kinda selfish to mention this now in the shadow of Glaedr's loss, but it had been on his mind since he had experienced the dragon's pain.

„You will not have to," Islanzadi said sternly. This time she seemed determined to help him, to comfort him even if it was only with empty promises. Eragon knew she couldn't promise him something like that, but he clung to it nevertheless.

„Don't let this experience leave a mark on your soul. You'll have to be strong, just as Gleadr will have to be," her voice became softer as she continued: „You may be right, I do not understand the bond between a dragon and a Rider, for I have never experienced such a thing, but I know you and Saphira and I have faith in both of you."

Eragon was a bit stunned by those words. „You do?" he asked carefully.

„Of course, otherwise I wouldn't have let you leave Du Weldenvarden," she answered with an almost unnoticeable smile. Noticing that she hadn't specified which time she was referring to, Eragon smiled as well. The simple fact that he could talk to her was cheering him up already.

„We'll make sure that their sacrifice was not in vain," Islanzadi promised and Eragon nodded.

He couldn't help himself, he rested his fingertips on the lower rim of the little silver mirror. It was an useless attempt to seek physical contact, but that didn't matter. As Islanzadi did the same gesture it almost felt like a real touch, despite the cool, even surface beneath his fingertips that indicated a different reality.

„I really look forward to meeting you again, in person I mean," Eragon said with a sad smile. Even though they had been parted for little more than a week, he was already missing her. He wanted to spent his time with her, as much of it as he could, which was far too little right now.

„So do I," Islanzadi answered and for a moment it seemed as if she wanted to say more, but kept silent instead. There were things that were supposed to be spoken of in person, not while they were miles apart and only connected through some kind of magic. So Eragon kept silent as well, which created a moment, during which they did nothing but look at each other and hope that the other would understand what they felt despite the lack of words.

„I'll see you in Urubaen," Islanzadi finally broke the silence. It was almost the same farewell she had used when they had last parted. Urubaen was not only a location, the place where they would have to make their final stand, but a promise instead. A promise to arrive there unharmed, as well as a promise to make it through the odds they would have to face there. Only if they managed to do that they could really be together, Eragon knew that.

„Urubaen," the Rider repeated. Never had he felt more expectant and frightened at the same time when thinking of one place.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hey, and once again I have to apologize for the long wait =( But I'm hopeful to get faster, now that school has finally stopped bothering me. I've come to the incredible realization that one can have a subject for three years and still know completely nothing about it...

Thank you for all the nice reviews for the last chapter, you guys are awesome! =)

And:

**To Lady Altrariel:** There will definitely be some more parts from Islanzadi's point of view before we reach Urubaen.

**To Guest:** Oh, you'll have to wait and see. I won't give that away, sorry.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Things had not improved since Eragon had last been in contact with Islanzadi. He had not gotten in contact with her since they had taken Feinster and Gil'ead, for they were both far too busy to find a quite moment for it. Also Eragon felt that it would only enlarge his longing if they talked to each other through the _Draumr kopa_. It simply wasn't real. They could hear and see each other, but it was nothing compared to meeting in person. Seeing Islanzadi in the little mirror he had used, made him want to break the thin glass and reach through it, despite the fact that he knew how many miles they actually were apart. So the Rider considered it better to look forward to their next real meeting instead of fueling the longing with magic compromises, even as he sometimes caught himself wanting to contact her, to at least see that she was well and to hear her voice.

With vague worries about Islanzadi's well-being Eragon entered the battle of Belatona, but they were soon forgotten as the fight demanded his whole attention. One might think that he had gotten used to battles seeing how many he had already been through, nevertheless it was a completely new horror every time. Seeing people, who fought alongside you, die and killing others who were not really your enemy but rather it's chessmen... no, there was no way to get used to such a thing. Those poor soldiers were hardly older than Eragon himself, but they had not been trained as good as he had been. Most likely the only help they had ever received from Galbatorix before they were send into battle was the sword they held in their shaking hands.

Nevertheless the young, inexperienced soldiers were only one side of the coin, the other was made of magicians equipped with dark and evil magic. Those were the people Eragon actually wanted to fight, they were the evil that had to be erased, not those poor men who had no choice and no defense.

There seemed to be no end to the dark henchmen available to the king. They were creating Shades, manipulating soldiers so that they could feel no pain... every time Eragon thought things couldn't get worse, they came up with another even more horrible terror. It was demoralizing.

One of those incidence was the Dauthdaert, although it had admittedly not been invented by Galbatorix and his magicians.

It had scared Eragon immensely to realize how close he had come to loosing Saphira. After Oromis and Glaedr had died, he had promised himself to watch over her, but nevertheless he had failed. Not even his protection spells had been able to protect the dragon. Despite the fact that the weapon, now was in the hands of the Varden, he didn't feel safe. How could he be sure that Galbatorix didn't own another one, or more? The king had had enough time to collect all sorts of ancient, powerful weapons and dark magic. This was another demoralizing thought.

Still his spirit was lifted by the Varden's victory in Belatona and the arrival of the werecats, who offered their assistance to the Varden army. The encouragement which Eragon felt because of it was equally based on their magical skills and the symbol their appearance was. With them joining the fight against Galbatorix, every race of Alagaesia was now on the Varden's side. Nobody actually supported the king anymore, the only power he still had over his people was based on fear, not loyalty. There was no better indication that they were doing the right thing.

* * *

><p>Later that day, Eragon found himself amongst the former citizens of Carvahall, who were all tensely waiting for news from Elain and the baby that was to be born. Things were apparently not going very well, as far as Eragon could tell – being a male he was not allowed anywhere near the tent, so he had to rely on second- or third-hand information. He would have offered his help, but he knew that he would only be allowed to do so if things were going really, really bad, otherwise the women would not allow him to be present.<p>

Therefore Eragon settled for moral support, alongside his cousin, trying to keep Horst and his sons from drowning in worry. Neither of them was any good at helplessly waiting, so the mood didn't improve considerably.

A long time passed – maybe several hours? - before Gertrude appeared. She looked exhausted and tired, still she brought good news. Mother and child were alive, which had been all but certain. The moment of joy however was short-lived, for they soon learned that the child wasn't alright. She had been born with a harelip, which would have to be fixed by magic. Eragon would have liked to hand the task over to Arya or one of the elven magicians, because after what he had accidentally done to Elva, he had no ambitions to work his magic on a child again. Although he was sure such a grave mistake wouldn't happen again, the risk scared him nevertheless.

So Eragon asked Arya to help the child, for she was an experienced magician, more so than he was. Therefore he felt a wave of disappointment wash over him as she refused to do it. Her reasons were of course understandable, but Eragon wished she would do it nevertheless. He had faith in the people he had spent almost his entire life with. Surely they would not fear magic and elves and... in that moment the image of his lonely strolls through the _The Spine_ popped up in his mind and suddenly Arya's fears didn't seem so unfounded anymore.

As Eragon sat beside the small bed of the child, Hope – a most fitting name, Eragon would later think -, singing the ancient words of magic that would heal the baby, he concentrated on the matter at hand and pushed the lingering worries aside.

It was an exhausting night for the young Rider and with the approaching dawn he felt the tiredness creep up on him. Still he continued his chanting, until the child's face showed no difference to any other baby's face anymore. Eragon was immensely relieved that everything had went so well. He had done his best and for once things seemed to have worked out exactly the way he wanted them to.

The grateful parents and some other citizens of Carvahall congratulated him, but he also caught some warily gazes. Magic was an unknown territory for them, so he guessed that it was only natural for them to be careful around someone who practiced it. Nevertheless the realization of how distant they were to him, of the fact that he was no longer a real part of their community, hurt.

Once again he thought of Arya's refusal to help healing the child and her reason for it. She had told him that the humans were afraid of magic and elves, who practiced it in their daily lives, that they would think she would replace the child with something evil. He of course was sure that she would never do such a thing, no elf would do something like that, but how should the villagers know about that?

At the moment Eragon only still held some of their trust because they had seen him grow up and knew who he was. How much of his new life could he reveal to them before they would turn away from him? Not only was he a magicians now, but a Rider and a well-respected member of the Varden and also a friend of the elves. He had become part of those stories he had heard when he was a child and therefore could never be a simple farm boy again, no matter what he wished for.

The people of Carvahall seemed to have accepted the fact that he was a Rider pretty well, most likely because they didn't know half of the implications of it, and also his changed appearance had not caused as much aversion as it could have been expected. Still Eragon wondered whether the knowledge of how much he was involved with magic and elves would not be one point too much.

He didn't want to loose them, for they were the last reminder of the much simpler life he had once led and of his old home, he still had. Nevertheless he was quite aware that his new and his old life contradicted and therefore could not be led parallel. All he could do was to carry on with the life he led right now and hope that some pieces of the old one could remain alongside it.

But... What happened if they found out just how close to the elven queen he was? That certainly was one of the main points that separated him from "Eragon the farm boy". Could they accept that? And more importantly could Roran and Katrina?

Roran had become an important man himself, but at the end of the day he could still put his hammer down and build himself a simple quiet life with Katrina somewhere. They still had the option of being simple folk that didn't have to worry about the burdens of politics.

When they had been children, Eragon and Roran had considered their life to be mostly planned already. They had thought that they would be farmers for all their life and that one day they would marry someone and have children and grandchildren, just like everyone else did. Now though things were different. Roran was still closest to that line, with his lovely wife and a child on it's way, Eragon though...

_Don't worry about such things._ Saphira interfered kindly. _The future is the future and whatever it will bring you can not predict at the moment anyway. _

Eragon sighed. _I know, it's just... scary how much things have changed._

Saphira nudged his shoulder softly with her nose and her warm, smoky breath trailed over his skin in the process. _Roran loves you and he will not turn away from you, so don't worry about that._

_But what comes after Urubaen?_ Eragon asked._ If we actually make it trough that? Where will we live? The Palancar Valley? Ellesmera? Somewhere else?_

Saphira chuckled silently. _Once again that is something you should not worry about. Not yet anyway. Urubaen comes first and after that a new life will begin, maybe the answers will come with it._

Eragon smiled a bit at this. _I certainly hope so, it would be a lot easier._

A short silence followed as Saphira gave him a toothy smile in return.

_It all comes down to Urubaen, doesn't it?_ Eragon murmured finally. Urubaen was the one constant factor that dominated his future and it would be a turning point no matter what the outcome would be in the end.

_Yes, but we'll make it through that, little one. _Saphira said encouragingly._ Galbatorix has outlived his prime, he already begins to rot, or else he wouldn't have abandoned so much of his kingdom._

Eragon simply nodded, he could see Saphira's point. Even if Galbatorix was still as powerful as ever, his mind had certainly decreased, why else would he turn a blind eye on the Varden's invasion of his kingdom. He was giving up far too much land and potential soldiers this way. No single warrior could rule a whole kingdom without help no matter how mighty he was, he needed an army.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Well, no Islanzadi in this chapter, but there will be a part from her point of view in the next.

And I've answered some reviews:

** :**

Yeah, I think you are right about that. If I would want to write a completely independent story from the point this story started at I would have to answer the question: How to get rid of Galbatorix if not the way Paolini planned? A bit of laziness and the way I enjoy playing with the way Islanzadi/Eragon fits into the original story line prevented that. That's a bit of a problem when we reach parts were Islanzadi isn't present, I admit.

**Lady Altrariel:**

Thank you so much! =)

I'm not sure about Roran, there might be a part from his point of view, depends on whether it'll fit into the storyline... I'm really not sure yet.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

It was raining. Again. For a whole week now it had not stopped raining. Normally elves were not bothered by rain, or storms. Islanzadi was not one to take the weather personally either, but right now she could not help it. When you were camping out in the fields with an army, rain was a bother, no matter how much you usually liked that kind of weather.

Everything and everyone was soaking wet and the ground had turned into a strange mixture of grass and mud, mainly mud. Elves were able to walk on snow and they were also able to walk on mud, that didn't keep the substance from clinging to their feet, though. Somehow the dirt spread from the soles of their shoes up their feet and legs, until they all seemed to wear earth-colored stockings.

As it was right now, the horses were better protected from the rain than her soldiers. The reason for it was simple: horses were a valuable factor and could easily get problems with their hooves if they were exposed to that much moisture for such a long time. So Islanzadi had given in and allowed the animals to be protected by spells. Her soldiers on the other hand had to deal with out that, with a enemy Rider close by they could not afford to waste magic. She needed her magician in their best shape, not worn out from unnecessary exercises.

At the moment it was late at night, but no stars could be seen in the sky, for heavy rain clouds blocked the view. Today the clouds had parted for a short while to allow golden sunlight to touch the ground, nevertheless it had not stopped raining, which had been a demoralizing experience for all of them.

Islanzadi had found shelter from the weather in her tent, a much smaller version than they put up for her when they stayed in one place longer than one night. It still was a welcome retreat. The moisture had not stayed out completely, but at least she had escaped the rainfall.

After they had taken Gil'ead Islanzadi had allowed her soldiers two days to rest, they had all needed it after the battle. On the evening of the first day she had overseen Oromis's and Gleadr's funeral. Although there had not been much time for a proper ceremony, the experience had left her emotionally exhausted.

Old memories had stirred at the sight of a Rider laid to eternal rest. This had not been the first time she had seen such a thing. Just a century ago those things were quite common. Those had been very dark days indeed. On the other hand they had not exactly stopped, the only reason why no Riders died nowadays anymore, was because there simply were no more of them left. Even now the only Rider the elves and their allies could count on their side was Eragon, who had not had a proper training. Therefore the loss of Oromis had been even more bitter than it normally would have been.

Contrary to Eragon's believe Islanzadi did grief for Oromis, though, not as whole-heartedly as the young Rider did. For her the loss of the older Rider meant three things: 1. the loss of an experienced magician and a dragon, 2. if Oromis could so easily be beaten by the dark powers Galbatorix used, then Eragon was in even greater danger than she had thought, and 3. the loss of a person she had known for a long time and, even though they had not exactly been friends, whom she had valued. In that order.

It may seem cold to think in such ways, but Islanzadi had led a long life and she had seen the death of many people as Galbatorix had started his war against everything that didn't immediately bow to him. Including the death of her own husband. So she could be forgiven for not reacting the way a younger soul would, which had not seen as much misery and destruction in it's time.

* * *

><p>It was one of those rainy nights that Islanzadi lay awake, wide awake. Of course she never slept, not the way humans did, but tonight any kind of sleep had deserted her. She was tired, yes, but she despised another useless attempt to rest. Worries were making it hard to calm her mind and if she forced herself into rest it only got worse, underlined by nightmares.<p>

Yes, elves could have nightmares. While they were not as deeply asleep as humans or dwarfs, elves still had to shut their brain down enough for it to recover from the day and the universal way of doing so were dreams. Nightmares didn't come to her often, but when they did, they were vivid. Not a pleasant thing to look forward to.

Usually Islanzadi would simply wait until she was too tired to stay awake anymore and hope that her exhaustion would keep the nightmares away. Sometimes that method worked, but mostly it didn't. There were plenty of old memories her nightmares could feed from, they didn't need much creativity.

Late that night Islanzadi put her quill away and stood up from the small desk, which was basically the central point of her tent. There was no use in continuing her work anymore. She was far too tired to catch any clear thoughts. Several times already she had found herself staring at the same sheet of paper for almost ten minutes, before she realized that the only thing it showed was a spot of ink which had dripped from her quill.

So she made her way over to the small bed that had been put up near the tent's rear wall and lay down. Soon enough she felt herself drifting off into sleep, her eyes closing halfway and her thoughts becoming less long and heavy. It seemed to become a good night without any dreams, Islanzadi thought to herself...

* * *

><p><em>Islanzadi's sleep was interrupted by someone trying to get her attention. Immediately she snapped back into full consciousness.<em>

„_What is it?" she asked, not minding the courtesy. A startled servant stood near the entrance of her tend, he looked unsure whether to progress or to run for cover._

„_My queen, Lady Nasuada has send a message. It seems to be very important." the servant pressed, shifting a messily folded paper in his hands. It could not be good news. She had seen too many situations like this, they never resulted in good news. Those moments she hated the most, because she had to go through them no matter how much she wanted to turn away from them. They never gave you a choice._

„_Thank you," the queen said flatly, forcing herself to stay calm and distant. It would not do to show her increasing fear. She was the queen, she had to be strong, to be a role model her people could look up to. _

_Islanzadi took the paper from him, holding it tightly in her hand like it would bite her if she let go._

_The servant left, sensing that his presence was no longer needed nor wanted, although Islanzadi would not have been able to tell when or how he left. The world had shriveled to nothing but her and the letter in her hand._

_There was nothing to do, but to open it, she knew that, but her fingers felt numb and her mind was running in short circles around the fact that she didn't want to hear, couldn't take any more bad news. Not another death, not another lost battle, not another..._

_The queen caught herself, noticing that her breathing had sped up. Islanzadi took a moment to breath slowly , trying to calm herself down again. She could hear her own heart beat fast in her chest, could feel the beat of it in her veins._

_Carefully she broke the seal, forcing herself to do it. This was not a fork in the road of her life, it wasn't a point where she could make a decision and live with the consequences. This was the only path leading onwards and she had to walk it._

_The letter unfolded nearly on it's own, revealing Nasuada's handwriting on the inside. The letters were not as steadily drawn as usual and at some points the ink had been smeared. Nasuada had been crying as she wrote this, Islanzadi realized. It didn't help to notice this, it only made it harder to force herself to read the words._

Islanzadi Dröttning, it pains me to deliver these horrible news to you, but I feel that it is my duty to inform you about the death of Era...

_Islanzadi crumpled up the letter in her hand, as it clenched into a fist._

_For a moment nothing happened. The world seemed to stop dead in it's tracks and time froze around her. There she stood with the crumpled letter in one hand, that was clenched so tightly that her fingernails cut deeply into her palms, and the other shaking while it's fingers twitched in a helpless attempt to grab reality._

„_No" she whispered finally. „No, that's not true."_

„_THAT'S NOT TRUE!..._

* * *

><p>… NO!"<p>

Islanzadi woke up with a start, to the sound of her own voice screaming. She shot up from the bed and was standing before she reached full consciousness. She was breathing hard and every muscle in her body seemed tense.

It took her several moments to realize what had happened. She saw the inside of her tent, the candle, which had already burned down; the harmless papers on her small desk, the messed up covers of her bed...

It had been a dream. A nightmare, yes, but nothing more than that, she tried to tell herself. _Nothing has happened, it was all in your own mind._ Telling herself this didn't help very much, though. Knowing that it had not happened, didn't mean that it wouldn't happen in the future, wasn't happening right now.

She shouldn't have allowed him to fight alongside the Varden, he should have stayed with her. Maybe then she could have had an eye on his safety... But that was non-sense. He was the Rider and he was the one fate had chosen to fight Galbatorix. If she had the power to protect anyone from the evil king she would have already done so. After all there was a reason the elves had retreated into the safety of Du Weldenvarden.

Islanzadi combed her fingers through her long, dark hair and gave a sigh. Faith. She had to have faith in him. Faith in his ability to stay alive. Still he was barely out of childhood and...

No! These thoughts would get her nowhere but into another sleepless night filled with worry and fear.

„Faith," she muttered to herself as she sat down on her bed again. „Have faith, he will be alright."

Maybe if she told herself this often enough, she would at some point be able to believe it.

But still, it couldn't hurt...

Islanzadi stood up and walked over the the desk. She fished for a blank sheet of paper, the quill and the inkpot and began to write.


	14. Chapter 14

Eragon's mood was damped not much later, as he learned that Roran would be send off to Arough. It was an honorable duty of course, but the Rider only saw that he would not be able to keep an eye on his cousin if he was that far away. It was just the same as it was with Islanzadi, he could only hope that they were alright, but could do nothing to assure it. Saphira told him to have faith in them and that's what he did, although his worry would not disappear.

Furthermore Roran would have to leave Katrina behind which meant that he might not get back in time to see his first child born, even if there still were several months left. Who knew how much time they still needed to finally reach Urubaen? Taking the cities on the way was not the only problem they had to deal with. The taken cities also had to be watched over, which reduced the strength of the Varden army which made it's way to Urubaen and robed them of some of their best leaders.

Eragon had of course promised Roran to keep an eye on Katrina's well-being, but with all the duties the Rider had to perform he was often too busy to do that job sufficiently. He tried nevertheless.

And so the Varden army made it's way towards Dras Leona without Roran.

As they approached the city it became quite clear that this town would not so easily be taken. There was a huge solid wall around it, that made it impossible to invade the city without the gates being opened.

Several days the leaders of the Varden and Eragon were contemplating what would be the right approach. Since they couldn't attack before the gates were opened or preferably destroyed, a secret mission had to start first in order to enable the way.

It was Jeod, who had come with Roran and the former citizens of Carvahall from Teirm to the Varden, who played a main part in finding the solution. The scribe had found the description of a secret passage into the city in an old document. Those news were gratefully received by both Eragon and Nasuada as well as the leaders of the Varden. After all it was their best chance to invade Dras Leona, if not their only one.

Deciding who would go through the secret tunnel didn't take very long. The persons who would go on this quest had to be well-trained fighters as well as magicians, which ruled most of the Varden out. Eragon of course would be part of the little group, accompanied by Arya, Angela and several elvish magicians and also Solembum, who had been as mysterious about his motivation as ever.

* * *

><p>The evening before Eragon and the others went to find the secret passage into the city, the young Rider was called into Nasuada's tent. Since he had left it only a few hours ago, after the last tactical preparations for their mission, he was quite surprised to be called in again.<p>

As Eragon entered the tent it immediately became apparent to him, that the leader of the Varden was in a foul mood. The young woman was pacing behind the makeshift desk which had been put up for her and on which several small mountains of paper had piled up.

Eragon could see an envelop lie on the little cleared area in the middle of big piles. It was sealed with red wax, but the Rider couldn't quite make out it's imprint. Alongside the little letter lay an already opened one. The writing on the paper was even and looked ridiculously graceful for mere trails of ink. It was unmistakeably an elven handwriting.

„Lady Nasuada," Eragon began, but trailed of, as she turned towards him.

„Eragon," she said, her voice forcefully calm. „I'd like you to explain this to me."

Nasuada pointed at the envelop on her desk. Eragon stared at it and frowned.

„Erm, I don't quite know what you mean," he said slowly, while at the same time trying to figure out what was going on.

Nasuada gave him a disbelieving stare, but as she saw the look of pure confusion on his face she explained: „I got a letter from Queen Islanzadi, the usual reports about the progress, but inside I found this."

She pointed at the apparently offensive envelop again.

„It's addressed to you and has a warning that you are the only one to open it on the outside."

Eragon pressed his lips together to keep himself from smiling. This certainly was neither the place nor the time to do so, because Nasuada would only feel offended by it. Nevertheless Eragon grinned internally. She had written a letter to him!

For a moment he fought not only the urge to grin, or even smile, but also the little part of his brain which wanted to do a little happy dance. But that would of course have been ridiculous.

He had not noticed how much he had wanted to hear from her until now that the letter was so close, but just out of reach. For several days now he had contemplated contacting her, but he had no way to send her a message and using magic would have been an unnecessary use of power. Right now when he had to always be ready for a fight, he couldn't afford to spent such amounts of magic.

Eragon felt his heart speed up in excitement. He needed to get that letter!

„Eragon," Nasuada caught his attention. Her tone had changed to an urgent almost whisper. „I will not allow, that you receive secret orders from her. I can't help the secrets you have to have because you are a Rider, but nothing more. Remember that you have sworn to me."

Eragon nodded numbly. His thoughts were already circling around the letter. Of course he would have to answer Nasuada, if only he could think of something to say...

„I... erm... I assure you that I do not receive any orders from Islanzadi. There is nothing you have to worry about," Eragon said almost hastily.

Sensing that this was not enough to sooth Nasuada's mind, the young Rider tried to think of something more specific to say. It bothered him that he couldn't tell her the truth, but right now it really wasn't any of her business.

„Possibly it's got something to do with..." he swallowed heavily, as a wave of memories washed over him. „... with Oromis..." he trailed off again.

Nasuada nodded slowly. If she wasn't convinced she didn't let it show. Still Eragon could feel her wary gaze on his back, as he left the tent. He was sure that he had not heard the end of it yet.

* * *

><p>Not much later Eragon sat beside Saphira and kept turning the letter over in his hands. He had contemplated opening it as soon as Nasuada had handed it over, but had decided against it.<p>

_You could open it now. Maybe it's important._ Saphira said, her giant head rested next to him on the ground, her eyes were halfway closed.

_If it was something officially important, she would not have sent it to me with such secrecy, _Eragon answered.

For a while they remained silent, as Eragon kept turning the envelop in his fingers and Saphira closed her eyes like she was drifting off into sleep.

Soon Eragon would have to meet the others and the invasion of Dras Leona would begin.

_Why don't you want to open it right now?_ Saphira suddenly asked.

_I don't quite know,_ Eragon confessed. _But if I don't open it now, it will still be there when we return. After we fought, _He added.

Saphira seemed to shrug. _It will also still be there if you open it now._

_Yes, but it wouldn't be the same,_ Eragon replied.

This time Saphira remained silent. Of course she understood what he meant. Still she refused to voice her own opinion about this.

Eragon stared down at the letter, without stopping to play with it. Yes, he would keep it like this until he returned from the battlefield. Opening it was certainly something to look forward to...

Rider and dragon stayed where they were, until the time for Eragon to join his little group of invaders had arrived. As Eragon stood up and dusted himself off, Saphira opened her eyes and looked at him for a long moment.

_Be careful, little one._

I will be, if you promise to be so, too. Eragon answered, smiling.

* * *

><p>In the middle of the night the small group entered the passage and carefully made it's way into the city. They tried to be as silent and invisible as they could, for they would be outnumbered by hundreds once they were within the city.<p>

Things didn't go well, though. Long before they could reach the gates, Eragon and the small group were attacked by soldiers and got separated. The Rider found himself taken prisoner alongside Arya, with no clue where the others were or how they were fairing. The situation only got worse as the priests of the Helgrind appeared. With them came an awful realization.

After flying to the Helgrind with Roran to safe Katrina from the Ra'zac and the following fight, during which the Ra'zac and their parents, the Lethrblaka had been killed, Eragon had thought that he had put an end to their line. Apparently he had been wrong, because the priest now showed him the eggs of another Ra'zac generation. What a demoralizing realization, the Rider thought. If they would hatch, the whole terror would start all over again. He had seen the things those creatures could do and he could not allow them to continue. But right now there was little he could do. He was bound, as was Arya and there was no sign of the other members of their little scouting group. As horrible as it sounded, they could already be dead.

It was Angela who finally came to safe them, almost in the last minute, alongside Solembum who took care of the Ra'zac hatchlings by making a meal out of them. That had certainly been the most efficient and at the same time the most disgusting thing Eragon had ever seen.

Soon the now reduced group was back on their way, now even more careful than they previously had been. No one was willing to risk another unpleasant surprise.

As they were running through the dark tunnels and later through almost equally dark streets towards the gate, Eragon found comfort in the thought that back in the camp the letter was waiting for him. Once he returned he would read it.

And it made him even more eager to return.


End file.
